Consequences of Misquoted Magic
by Charabbi85
Summary: In Harry’s 6th year, a duel with Draco results in unexpected consequences. Sent back in time to 1944 with no memories, Harry learns a new view of the Dark side. Conflictions arise on return to his own time with his old memories. Which side will he pick?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers: The Harry Potter universe and characters belong to J. K. Rowling. No money is being made from this fanfiction, and no copyright infringement is intended. In summary … not mine.**

**This is my very first fanfic so criticism is welcome, but please keep it constructive :)** **Reviews are appreciated. Hope you enjoy.**

"So, are you coming tomorrow mate?"

"Huh?" Harry looked up in bewilderment. So lost in his thoughts was he, that he had not realised he was no longer alone in the dorm.

He watched as his long time friend tiredly folded his gangly frame into his bed and prepared to settle down for the night. Ron sighed and rephrased his question to his, now attentive, friend, "Are you coming to Hogsmead with me and 'Mione tomorrow?"

He watched, exasperated as Harry prepare to decline and cut in before he got the chance.

"Come on mate. It's been ages since we spent any time together which wasn't in class or dinner. You always go straight to bed rather than spend any time in the common room and we … well we miss you." Ron's eyes were wide as he looked plaintively at Harry.

Harry internally rolled his eyes at the blatant guilt trip. He had hardly been aiming for antisocial. He was still mourning Sirius and struggled to interact with others as his mind always wandered to _that_ night. The night he lost Sirius to the veil at the Department of Mysteries.

In all honesty he hadn't had much chance to think of Sirius during his summer at the Dursley's. His uncle had been particularly bitter after the interaction with the Order at King's Cross and had taken it out on Harry in anyway he could without resorting to actual violence. Harry had spent the summer cleaning and gardening a lot more than usual, while eating a lot less. The only benefit being that he could focus his thoughts on his tasks, with his exhaustion helping him to collapse into a dreamless sleep each night.

Unfortunately, upon his return to Hogwarts, everything from the year before had all come charging back. The hours he spent in the same castle where he had experienced that fateful vision, helped to ensure he never forgot his own input in his Godfather's death. The nightmares he had avoided since June came back full force, and he hadn't had a restful night since September 1st.

Upon consideration, he realised that Ron's idea had merit. Hogsmead would hopefully take his mind from his negative thoughts, if only for a few hours. He glanced up into blue eyes and gave a small smile, "Sure mate. Should be fun."

Ron grinned and rolled over, pulling the crimson blanket over himself and grunting as he shuffled his tall structure into a comfortable position. He was snoring within the minute.

Harry sighed as he saw this. He couldn't help feeling a stab of jealousy at his friend's height. He knew it was unavoidable after a childhood of malnourishment, but his small build bothered him at times. He shared a dorm with four growing boys, but it looked like his growth spurt had given up at a pitiable five foot five. A height considered on the shorter side of average for women. Positively petite for a man. A man expected to be a _saviour_ if the prophecy was to be believed.

The prophecy was another thing that had helped to dominate Harry's thoughts. Without the prophecy he would most likely still have parents, and a Headmaster who didn't waste time manipulating him. who would ignore him like any other student. Although he had managed to avoid thoughts of Sirius during the summer, his mind had been plagued by Sybil Trelawney's haunting recitation. In his heart he knew he didn't want to battle Voldemort. Harry hated death and pain. After a childhood of suffering through neglect and childhood bullies, he had seen the Wizarding world as a beacon of hope. An easier life with no conflict. Where magic would solve all problems and everyone would live peacefully.

That idea was destroyed the same day Hagrid told him of his own history. He learned of a world of dark lords and blood supremacy. And he hated it. He hated the view of muggleborns as tainted and muggles as archaic cavemen. He also hated the view that muggles were harmless and innocent. Harry was by no means naïve. He saw faults with both factions of the war. Muggles were advanced and dangerous. He knew this from experience, and it frustrated him to no end that both light and dark wizards were so uninformed and frankly ignorant about the development of the muggle world. A world so much larger than the Wizarding community, that underestimating it seemed incredibly foolish in Harry's opinion.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his own jaw cracking yawn. A flick of his wand showed the time as one in the morning, and he noticed that yet again his thoughts had caused him to miss the entrance of his roommates. He could hear the snorting and snuffling of the other boys in their beds, and decided that it was probably best for him to follow suit if he wanted to be up early for Hogsmead.

He pulled his curtains closed before crawling under his thick quilt, necessary to keep him warm in the October night. As his eyes closed he hoped he would have a night of peace, with no more dreams of prophecies and veils.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rise and shine shorty! It is now Saturday 14th October 1995 … two years after this occasion should have happened, I might add …. And we are _finally _going to have an official Hogsmead trip together!"

Harry scowled as his curtains were yanked open, causing bright morning sunlight to stream directly in his eyes. He glared blearily at Ron who was still talking.

"Yep. No more running through secret tunnels with invisibility cloaks …"

"That was just me, you realise?" Harry cut in.

"… No more sneaking around. Just casual shopping and drinking Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks." Ron stubbornly continued.

Harry groaned and felt his shoulders crack as he pulled himself upright. He closed his eyes and took a moment to prepare himself for the day ahead. He planned to follow Ron's advice and just relax today. No thoughts of Sirius, prophecies or war were going to ruin his mindless fun. He took a deep breath and stood to get dressed.

He pulled on a pair of blue, fitted jeans and a dark green jumper while Ron waited impatiently by the door. After tying his trainers up he walked up to his redheaded friend and sighed at how much he had to look up to meet his eyes. Despite being only sixteen, Ron already stood at a proud six foot two; a full nine inches taller than Harry.

He put it out of his mind. Height thoughts led to Dursley thoughts, and they would not help him relax. He craned his neck slightly to grin at Ron.

"Let's go."

* * *

"Oh Harry, you're coming with us?"

Hermione was waiting in the entrance hall, trying to keep her foot tapping to a minimum, when the boys arrived. She seemed rather surprised by Harry's appearance, and unless he was mistaken it didn't seem to be a pleasant surprise.

"Um yes … did you not want me to?"

Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably and chewed at his lower lip. Ron had been enthusiastic in his invite, so it hadn't occurred to Harry that Hermione may not feel the same. She and Ron had only recently started a tentative relationship at the Burrow while Harry had been stuck at the Dursley's. He realised too late that he might be gate crashing their first 'proper' date. As usual Ron was oblivious to the tense atmosphere building.

Hermione smiled at Harry, but he could see the slight tension in her face, indicating she wasn't overjoyed with the situation. She was subtle, but five years of friendship with her made it as clear as day for him.

"Of course not Harry," she exclaimed, sweeping strand of bushy hair out of her face and reaching out to grab his hand, "We've barely seen you this year. Ron and I can have our date another time."

He appreciated the enthusiasm she showed for his company but the fact that she had brought up the date without his mention showed that it was on her mind. Harry was mentally berating Ron for making him a third wheel, while Ron, who had clearly cottoned on to his blunder, was throwing apologetic glances at Hermione.

"Shall we go then?" Harry muttered, walking past Hermione with a good deal less enthusiasm. Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron and they both hurried to catch up with him. Hermione fell into step on his left while Ron timidly took her hand. Harry caught sight the action and found himself torn. It was undeniably sweet, but then also undeniably annoying. Although the relationship had been a long time coming, not to mention had kept most of their fellow Gryffindors exasperated with waiting, Harry missed having his best friends to himself.

Another product of his childhood he supposed. The neglect he had experienced caused him to subconsciously provide roles to his friends. He had cast Ron as the annoying older brother, with all the knowledge earned from a wizarding childhood. He was always ready with an answer about pureblood customs and Quidditch. Hermione held a more motherly role with her constant encouragement to study and questions about his wellbeing. He relied on these substitutes to help ground him and he couldn't help but worry that their involvement in each other would leave him neglected again.

He had already lost his faith in Albus Dumbledore, whom he had previously thought infallible. The man had filled the 'kind grandfather' role for a long time. Now, however, he just seemed like a manipulative old man, using Harry as his weapon through the year and locking him in hell during the holidays to keep him out of the way. All with the excuse of the 'Greater Good' keeping any dark thoughts off of himself. Dumping the prophecy on Harry immediately after Sirius' death had been completely overwhelming, and had left Harry questioning his beliefs.

Harry's friends usually stopped his mind straying towards darker thoughts. He had never admitted it but he held a fair amount of contempt for humanity in general. He was thoroughly conflicted inside with his need for love and attention from the creatures he often loathed. The experience he had of being bullied by children and ignored by faculty in primary school, combined with anything Dursley related caused him a general dislike of muggles.

Wizards were, if possible, more prejudiced. It was frustrating, constantly fighting an internal battle against what he had been taught to believe since entering the wizarding community. He had only been taught the opinions of 'light' wizards and loathed their constant defence of muggles. He didn't dare voice his opinions for risk of losing his muggleborn friend. Hermione and Ron showed in their own way that he could be loved and cared for, and he knew without their support he would allow his darker thoughts a lot more freedom to develop. It was their support that showed him the good in humanity, and that not everyone had a selfish agenda.

He was jerked back to reality when Hermione jabbed him sharply in the ribs. Her expression was a mixture of exasperation and concern, showing that this wasn't her first attempt at getting his attention. Clearly he had been lost in his thoughts again, as they had already walked all of the way to Hogsmead without him making a single contribution to the conversation. He wasn't actually sure if Hermione and Ron had actually spoken during the walk. The look in Hermione's cinnamon eyes indicated that they had ... to him ... with no response.

Ron stopped a few steps ahead and turned sharply, a grin on his freckled face, "So," he asked cheerfully, "Where to first?"

* * *

Draco Malfoy scowled as he stalked through Hogsmead. He had abandoned Crabbe and Goyle at the start of the trip, preferring to keep his own company while he thought back on his summer. His father had told him on his sixteenth birthday that he was to be inducted into the Death Eater's during the Yule holidays. He was give six months to make sure it was what he wanted. If he chose to follow in his father's footsteps he would need to use that time to become skilled enough in the Dark Arts to impress at his initiation.

Draco had spent the following day in the Malfoy library. He had no doubt of the path he wanted to take. He had no intention on joining the mudbloods who insisted on worshipping that shrimp, Potter. He would proudly serve his Lord and eradicate the filth polluting the wizard population in droves. The hours in the Library were spent poring over the numerous Dark tomes, one in particular taking most of his attention. 'Darkest Arts' by W. E. Black had actually been introduced to the library when his mother, Narcissa, had joined the Malfoy clan.

'Darkest Arts' held many incredibly dangerous curses, many of which were very rarely used anymore. Draco had already memorised several. Many of them could strip the caster of his magic if not controlled correctly. There were spells to boil blood in the body, send victims to hellish dimensions or strip a victim of his magic for twenty four hours. Draco favoured this one in particular as it had no negative affect on the caster, just temporary depletion of their magic. The spell would not normally be considered Dark if it just turned a wizard into a squib for a day. However, it did more than strip a wizard's magic. It would reverse any spell cast on the wizard within the previous twelve hours, including any healing spells. The curse had helped kill many a recovering witch and wizard in past battles.

It was getting dark already, and a flick of his wand showed Draco there was only twenty minutes to return to Hogwarts. He doubted he would make it on time. With a weary sigh he turned and started heading back to the school. Hogsmead was already empty of students and store owners were closing up, so there was no-one to view the impending altercation with one Harry James Potter.

* * *

Harry was sulking. He would deny it if anyone chose to pull him up on it, but he was feeling quite abandoned. He had finally sent his friends to the Three Broomsticks with the excuse that he had to leave early to get started on his Potions assignment. They had known it wasn't true but had allowed him to go on his own way with no argument. He had spent hours of discomfort watching the hand holding and 'sneaky' kisses while they shopped. Not to mention the secret giggles which had made him want to ask what the hell they were laughing about. He had decided that it would be a while before he attempted this again. He had perused the wares in the shops, but being the third wheel had put a dampener on any potential fun. He sincerely wished Ron hadn't invited him, and hoped Hermione was chewing his ear off now about it.

He had gone back to Zonko's after sending the couple for drinks and found that maybe he had needed Hermione's time keeping after all. As Mr Zonko shooed him politely out of the store, he realised he had very little time to get back to school. It upon nearing the school gates that he heard a voice call out to him. He turned and caught sight of a platinum blond heading his way.

"Oi Scarhead … don't you know not to ignore your betters?"

Harry sneered at the familiar visage of Draco Malfoy, "My better Malfoy? You? That's a joke right?"

He had barely managed to conceal the slight shiver of fear he felt while facing off with the larger boy. Draco had at least six inches of height on Harry, not to mention a rather terrifying expression on his face after Harry's reply.

* * *

Draco raged internally at Potter's response. The half-blood mocking him was not something he would take lightly. He realised that he had access to Potter with no witnesses and wondered how this could benefit the Dark Lord, and by extention, himself. The power drain curse sprung to mind immediately. It would leave Potter vulnerable enough to be side-along apparated directly to Malfoy Manor with no defence. If Potter hadn't been number one on the Dark Lords hit list, Draco would likely have just argued and left. Maybe a small hex or two would have been thrown but nothing too serious. He didn't like Potter, in fact he rather loathed the mop-headed urchin, but that didn't mean he _wanted _to kill him. He knew that Potter and Dumbledore stood for everything his Lord and father despised, and he could not miss this opportunity to take one of the Light's figureheads out of the equation.

Harry started when Draco whipped his Hawthorn wand out of the arm holster and aimed it at his chest. He cursed his slow response time in pulling his own wand out. Terror filled him as he heard Draco's incantion. It was completely unfamiliar to him and he had no idea what to expect, or how to defend against it.

"_**reverto ut vicis of adversarius vis**_!" Draco hissed triumphantly. Silver eyes immediately widened in fear as he realised he had spouted the wrong curse. He screamed as he felt the horrific agony of his magic being torn from his core. Tears filled the Malfoy heir's eyes as he frantically prayed that he would be left with enough magic to survive his blunder.

As soon as the spell had been uttered a jet of deep indigo light slammed into Harry's chest. He cried out in terror as wind and dust started to circle him rapidly like his own personal tornado. He realised that as the seconds went on he was getting more and more confused. He could feel memories being ripped from his mind and wondered if this was the curse's aim? Was it a darker form of _**Obliviate**_? He shrieked again as he felt a vicious tug inside his chest. It felt similar to a portkey tug, but in his heart instead of his navel, and much more painful. Less than thirty seconds had passed before his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

Draco watched the miniature cyclone dissipate as he felt his magic tearing out. He was anchored to Potter by the indigo light which, much to his relief, was vanishing with the wind and dirt. Before he lost consciousness he saw that Potter had vanished when the curse had ended, leaving a scorched patch of grass behind. The last thing Draco felt was the ground coming up to strike his tearstained face, before darkness enveloped him.


	3. Chapter 3

He opened his eyes blearily, before hissing and hastily shutting them again. His head was throbbing painfully and he found himself wishing he was still unconscious. His second attempt to look around was done much slower, opening his lids a millimetre or two while they adjusted to the whiteness of the room he was in. The boy was beginning to panic. The room seemed familiar, like an infirmary, but he didn't recognise it. He had no idea how he came to be in this bed all alone, and when he thought back he realised he didn't know where he should be. As he started to hyperventilate a sharp beeping noise sounded. This was shortly followed by a matronly woman bustling into the room, skirts billowing around her.

"Ah … finally awake I see," she chirped cheerfully, a very faint French accent colouring her words. "You have been unconscious for two days honey, so I'm going to need to do some tests. Hold still dear and let me do my work. You will soon be as good as new."

The boy stared at her, bewildered. She seemed nice enough, and he found it hard to distrust her. Her ample figure was concealed under a pale blue dress which reached the floor. It seemed rather old fashioned, with every part of her covered, but for her hands and face. A white apron and nurse's hat finished the outfit. She looked to be in her early forties, with chin length, wispy brown hair and caramel eyes. She raised a dark eyebrow at his inspection of her and smiled kindly.

"I am Madame Leblanc. I am the medi-witch for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she said in response to his unasked question. The boy nodded blankly as she cast numerous spells on him to check his health. She frowned before pulling a vial from her apron pocket. It was filled with a viscous pink fluid. She handed it to him, looking at him expectantly.

"It's a pain potion dear, for your headache. Will work in a jiffy and you will soon be feeling much better." She nodded encouragingly at him.

The boy was wary but the crippling pain in his skull squashed any misgivings he might have had. He opened the vial and downed the contents, pulling a face at the taste. It made him think of sour milk. His expression soon smoothed out in relief though as the pain dissipated.

The matron had finished her spells and tilted her head to the side as she looked at him, "Well you seem in good health sweetheart … a bit malnourished but it's nothing a good meal or two won't help." She studied his petit form, finding him adorable. He had thick, sable hair which fell in waves just past his shoulders. His skin was tanned, like he spent a lot of time in the sun, but it was his expressive green eyes which caught her attention. They were the colour of freshly cut grass and had her instinctively associating him with the nature and the outdoors. He also had a peculiar scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. Her scans had showed it to be an old scar, undeniably caused by dark magic. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the poor boy that had been found unconscious just outside of the school gates.

She sat gingerly on the foot of his bed as he sat up to look at her. "So … what's your name sweetie?" She asked. She wasn't expecting his distraught expression, or his unsure response.

"I don't … I don't know. I have no idea who I am! I can't remember anything before waking up in this bed!" He was panicking again.

Her eyes widened at his response. She quickly relaxed her expression and smiled reassuringly at him. "Not to worry sweetheart," she stated in a soothing voice. She started towards her office, "I'll be back shortly. I am just going to call in Headmaster Dippett. He should hopefully be able to clear a few things up. He has been most curious about you. Actually, most of the staff have been curious about you," she laughed, "And it appears you have become even more of an enigma than first thought!"

The young man found that he was not reassured at this statement. He watched her stroll into the office only to pick up, and gently ring a small golden bell. She had barely returned to the bed before the doors to the hospital wing swung open and two men strolled in.

"Headmaster Dippett. Professor Dumbledore," Madame Leblanc said in greeting as she approached them. "As you can see our young guest has awakened." She gestured towards the boy as the two older men turned towards him.

"How is he Lucille?" Professor Dumbledore questioned as he approached the foot of the bed. The professor was a rather tall, lean man with long auburn hair, streaked with grey. He had an auburn beard down to his breast, and twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon glasses. He looked down his crooked nose at the boy as he waited for the answer. The boy in question found himself rather alarmed by the garish violet dress the man wore. 'Wizarding robes' his mind supplied for him. He didn't know where the thought came from but he knew it was true.

"He's in relatively good health Albus. We're certainly not about to lose him," her eyes crinkled as she disclosed the less positive news. "He is malnourished though, and appears to have amnesia."

The boy frowned at having them talk about him like he wasn't there. He saw the Professor's bushy eyebrows shoot up at the matron's last statement.

"Amnesia you say?" Albus turned to the boy, poorly concealed distrust in his eyes, "Forgive me my boy but I believe that is something we will need to confirm," he stated gravely as Headmaster Dippett nodded behind him. "We are at war, and the Dark Lord Grindelwald's spies are everywhere. We cannot afford to have one loose in a school."

The boy stared blankly at him. Grindelwald? War? He didn't think he was a spy, but with no memories he couldn't really say for sure.

Headmaster Dippett took the moment of quiet to step up to the boy's left shoulder, being careful to avoid the side table, and smiled at him. The smile was not like the one offered by Madame Leblanc. It was calculating and made the young man nervous. The headmaster was shorter than Professor Dumbledore, standing at five foot ten inches, with a rather portly stature. He had an air of self importance, and his brown moustache twitched as he spoke, "You'll understand if we need to administer Veritaserum. These are dark times, so we must be absolutely sure you are no threat to the school." His hazel eyes gleamed as if he had already caught the boy in some unspeakable act.

Veritaserum was a potion used to make the one ingesting it state the absolute truth when questioned. Another fact the boy knew without knowing why. Green eyes gazed warily at the two educators, but then softened in resignation as he nodded to Dippett's suggestion. Surely he had no way to incriminate himself if he had no memories?

The Headmaster briefly looked surprised by his acquiescence, before turning sharply and heading towards the fireplace at the opposite end of the room. Reaching into a pot on the mantle, he grabbed a handful of the contents and proceeded to cast them into the flames. The powder promptly turned the flames green, and Dippett stepped inside, calling out his destination, "Professor Slughorn's office!" As he whirled away in the flames the boy sat back against his pillow and waited.

It was a short wait. The Headmaster had barely been gone a few minutes before the fireplace flared green again and he stepped back out, followed immediately by the resident Potions Master.

"Oh ho, it is our young guest," the potions master stated merrily as he walked over to inspect the petit boy. "Amnesia eh? That is very interesting. I'm rather curious about the answers my potion is going to help to give." He promptly sat in the chair to the right of the bed and stared at the boy. The boy shifted his small frame uncomfortably, feeling slightly like an interesting specimen the potions professor was planning to dissect.

"Oh for heavens sake Horace, stop inspecting the boy and prepare him for the serum. The sooner this is over with, the sooner my patient can relax again!" The medi-witch has bustled over to the crowded bed after witnessing her patient's discomfort, and was now glaring at Professor Slughorn.

The professor started and stared up at her sheepishly, "Of course my dear lady," he beamed at her while executing a hasty bow in her direction. "Shall we then?" he asked, looking in the wide green eyes.

"Um … sure. I'm ready." The boy whispered apprehensively.

"Excellent!" Professor Dumbledore cut in. "Professor Slughorn is going to administer three drops of Veritaserum onto your tongue. It will take a minute to take affect, and I will start by asking you a question to ensure you cannot lie. We will then move onto more questions to help us discover your identity and the reason you are here. You might want to make sure you're comfortable."

"Right. Okay." The boy muttered before shifting into a more comfortable upright position against his pillow. At the expectant expressions being directed at him, he poked out his tongue. Slughorn grinned and leaned toward him, glass dropper held out. The boy shuddered as three drops of the cold potion fell upon his tongue. He felt the affects as soon as he closed his mouth. A calm sensation took over and he relaxed. He felt no more worry as he stared at the room's occupants blandly.

Albus placed himself at the foot of the bed, and blue eyes stared into green.

"For the first question then," he stated cheerfully, "What is your opinion of my robes?" The staff stared at him incredulously.

The answer from the boy came promptly, "I find them hideously garish. The purple clashes horribly with your auburn hair and they make you look ridiculous and unprofessional."

Despite his calm demeanour, the boy was internally mortified at what he had just said. He had not been able to stop himself from responding honestly, and he hoped the Professor would not hold it against him.

"Well, we now know the potion is working," Albus stated, looking slightly disgruntled. "Now then, on to more important questions. What is your name?"

The response was immediate, "I don't know."

The staff exchanged glances. The boy had been telling the truth. Chances are that if he did not know his name, he may not know much else. The professor continued his line of questions."

"Where did you come from? Why were you unconscious outside the school? Who do you work for? Are you a dark wizard? Are you a spy?" and so on.

Every question had the same response, "I don't know." The boy was clearly unaware of not only his identity and past, but also his political leanings. He had no idea of if he was even a dark or light wizard. He knew nothing of the war or if he played a role in it. The only clear answers he had were of his age (sixteen) and his knowledge of spells and potions. It was obvious he had been educated as a wizard somewhere, as despite not looking his age, he had learned the school curriculum up to his sixth year.

After the interrogation, the professors left the hospital wing. Slughorn returned to the dungeons, while Dumbledore and Dippett headed to the Headmaster's office to discuss what to do with their forgetful guest.

"Looks like you need a name sweetheart." Madame Leblanc stated, jolting the boy out of his thoughts. He had recovered from the Veritaserum and had been lost in his introspection before the medi-witch interrupted him. "So…any favourite names?" she queried, "anything that feels important?"

"I don't know." He stated forlornly. Trying to remember his name just caused a headache. "I think my name started with H though."

"How about Harrison? Or Hadrian … I always loved that name," she cooed.

"Hadrian," he whispered, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. "Yes. I'll be Hadrian. Thank You," he smiled up at her.

Lucille beamed back at him. "You should sleep now. You're still recovering and Veritaserum is very tiring on the body and mind. Bonne nuit … Hadrian"

"Good night Madame Leblanc," whispered Hadrian, sighing tiredly as he shuffled down the bed and pulled the bedding up. He closed his eyes and drifted off; hoping morning would bring his identity back.


	4. Chapter 4

Hadrian awoke to the sound of voices. Upon opening his eyes he realised it was morning, and he was clearly not alone in the infirmary. Professor Dumbledore was stood at the foot of his bed conversing quietly with Madame LeBlanc. Caramel and blue eyes both fixated on him as he pulled himself upright.

"Hadrian," Professor Dumbledore started. Clearly he had been told of the name Hadrian had chosen for himself. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Hadrian took a moment to consider what the professor had really been asking before he gave his answer, "I feel perfectly well Sir, but my memories are still gone. Is this … is this something that can be fixed?" he asked timidly.

The professor gazed at him seriously, before relaxing his posture and sighing. "I'm sorry dear boy," he said in a soft tone, as if delivering a death verdict. "Unless we find out how you lost your memories to begin with, we may never be able to get them back." Hadrian gaped at him, horror struck, before the older man continued, "The Headmaster and I have been trying to track down any missing child reports …" Hadrian internally bristled at being referred to as a child, "… and it seems that you have appeared out of nowhere. You're accent indicates that you are British, but with your knowledge of our curriculum it is surprising that you did not attend this particular institution for your education." Blue eyes narrowed as he continued, "We have also checked the school register, and every student invited to Hogwarts in the last thirteen to eighteen years arrived for their sorting. There are no names on the list unaccounted for. No children declined the invitation in favour of home education. I must say you have us at a complete loss."

Green eyes closed in dismay as Hadrian realised he wasn't going to discover his identity anytime soon. He looked up at the Professor and bit his lip, before mumbling, "I suppose I should leave then Sir. Thank you for trying to help and taking me in from the cold." He stood to leave before an orange clad arm reached out and grasped his shoulder. He glanced up into cerulean eyes, mentally ignoring the fact that the new orange robe clashed even worse with the beard.

Dumbledore smiled softly at him before slowly sitting on the end of the bed, gently encouraging Hadrian to sit back down, "Nonsense my dear boy," he stated, his tone sterner than his expression, "We are not about to send a young lad off alone into an unfamiliar world! A war torn one at that!" He shook his head firmly before continuing, staring into emerald eyes. Hadrian squirmed slightly as he got the distinct impression his very thoughts were being read by that deep blue gaze.

"I have decided, and the Headmaster agrees, that until you have your memories returned you should attend Hogwarts …" at Hadrian's alarmed expression he quickly sought to soothe him, "… only if you are amenable of course?" As Hadrian lowered his gaze to consider this, the Professor continued to outline his plan.

"As you are clearly well educated and aged sixteen, we believe you should enter your sixth year as a transfer student. We can say that you have been home schooled but have lost your parents in the war effort. This can explain why you are not starting school until late October …."

"Sir?" Hadrian suddenly interrupted, looking up sharply.

"Yes Mr … Hadrian? Oh dear, it seems we will need to think of a full name for you won't we?"

"Um yes sir," he replied hastily, trying not to get off topic. "Sir, what I mean to ask is … _when_ did you find me?"

Dumbledore's expression turned sombre as he relayed the story to the boy, "You were found outside the school gates at seven in the evening by our young gamekeeper, Hagrid. You were unconscious and the grass around you was completely scorched. It was most peculiar. Hagrid notified me and after ensuring you were neither a danger, nor a trap, we brought you to the hospital wing to recover."

Hadrian fidgeted impatiently, "Yes sir, but what was the date … please?" He didn't know why he needed to ask so badly, he just knew that it was important.

"It was Thursday just passed. The fourteenth of October … 1944 if you must know," Dumbledore added merrily, as if the year was obvious. Hadrian had no clue why the date felt so horribly wrong, but he tried not to show his discomfort as Dumbledore continued as though he had not been interrupted.

"Today is Saturday, and the Headmaster and I think that this Monday coming, it would be a good idea for you to be sorted into your house before classes start. We can use breakfast to introduce you to the school to save you a lot of questions."

Hadrian's mind was spinning. Everything seemed to be happening in quick succession, and a lot of what the professor was saying made little sense, "_Sorted_?" he questioned, "_House_?"

Dumbledore smiled down at him in a way that he found rather patronising. "Here at Hogwarts," he stated, "we have four houses. These houses hold students of all years, and whichever house you are sorted into will be like your new family. Good behaviour will have points awarded to the house, and poor behaviour will lose points. It is expected of house mates to look after one another. The houses each have an area of the castle for sleeping and socialising, with its own secret entrance. I am the Transfiguration Professor, and Gryffindor head of house. Professor Slughorn, whom you met yesterday, is Slytherin's head of house. The other two houses are Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You will meet their heads of houses tomorrow evening."

Hadrian nodded as he took all of this in, "And how will I be sorted into the house of choice Sir?" he asked quietly.

"With the Sorting Hat. It is an ancient artefact that, when put on your head, will rifle through your thoughts," Hadrian's eyebrows shot up at this point, "…to determine which house is most suitable for you. Brave Gryffindor, clever Ravenclaw, loyal Hufflepuff or cunning Slytherin." Dumbledore's eyes had taken on a speculative gleam during his statement, as if imagining where Hadrian would be placed.

Hadrian however, was still alarmed by the idea of having his thoughts _rifled through_. He supposed though, that it was no more invasive than the Veritaserum.

Hadrian laced his fingers together nervously, before coming to a decision. Peering up at the Professor, he nodded once before speaking, "I … I'll do it sir." He stuttered. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the teacher had clearly heard him. Dumbledore beamed at him, eyes twinkling madly.

"Well of course you will my boy!" he exclaimed, standing abruptly and grasping Hadrian's arm, "As you are feeling better, I think now would be a good time to take a tour of your new home, however temporary it may be. Do you agree?"

Hadrian, completely taken aback by the change in Professor Dumbledore's demeanour, hesitated before responding. Pulling himself to his feet beside his bed, he suddenly felt a cold breeze. He glanced down at himself and realised that he was wearing a hospital gown. After only a moment's glance around the room he stopped himself, realising his foolishness. The older wizards seemed to have followed his train of thought as he crouched slowly to reach under the bed. Pulling out a small green trunk, he smiled up at Hadrian.

"You're not aware of the clothing we found you in?" he asked, clearly expecting Hadrian's answer. Hadrian swept a lock of ebony hair out of his eye as he stared back, before slowly shaking his head. It was horribly frustrating that he didn't know the slightest detail about himself. He had not even seen his reflection yet, so his sense of self was almost non-existent. Dumbledore stood, tangerine robes billowing slightly as he placed the trunk on his bed and opened the lid. "Here is everything we found with you two nights ago." He stated, smiling broadly at Hadrian, who just nodded numbly.

A moment later, Hadrian was reaching eagerly towards the trunk, green eyes greedily searching the contents as he hoped for answers. He heard the professor chuckle quietly behind him as he pulled out his trainers. "It's a rather interesting pair of shoes you have there Hadrian," he stated quietly, "The staff and I found them completely dissimilar to anything we have seen before." Reaching past the young man, he tugged gently at the strap on top of a shoe, loosening the Velcro slightly. "I have only come across this fastening device in the last year or so. It was in the muggle world, but I must admit I have never seen it on a shoe. Most fascinating!"

Hadrian placed the shoes to the side gently; happy he had something unique which could help him discover his past. After pulling his clothes on, he pulled the item out of the trunk. He felt a rush of familiar warmth as he held it, his shoulder length hair blowing slightly as if caught in a breeze. Dumbledore stepped back slowly, giving Hadrian his personal space back, and gazed at the item.

"It appears that this is truly your wand." Hadrian's head snapped up from staring at the wand, and stared at the older man curiously.

"As my old friend Mr Ollivander says, the wand picks the wizard. It looks like this fellow has chosen you, and is happy to be re-united," the teacher stated cheerfully. Hadrian grinned at this. He couldn't deny that holding the wand felt like having an old friend with him. He was pulled out of his musings by Dumbledore's throat clearing. The professor raised a bushy auburn eyebrow, and glanced toward the hospital wing doors.

"Are we ready to go Mr …? Ah. Yes, we still have a name issue don't we." Dumbledore laughed softly and looked at the boy expectantly.

"I like James," Hadrian stated before the badly dressed man had a chance to suggest anything. It felt incredibly familiar to him and he wondered if it had been his name before.

"Hadrian James?" Dumbledore muttered, a long, pale finger tapping on his lip slowly. "A middle name will be needed of course. Something with a more wizarding influence maybe? A historical name or constellation is usually popular."

Hadrian frowned at this, "I have no historical knowledge for obvious reasons," he muttered thoughtfully, "and the only knowledge I have of astronomy is Orion's Belt. Is that even a constellation?"

"It needn't matter," Dumbledore chuckled, "You have chosen a wonderful name in Orion. Hadrian Orion James … or maybe Jameson? Hadrian Orion Jameson?"

As the dark head nodded, the professor clapped his hands together, "Wonderful! Shall we be going then Mr Jameson? You needn't worry about coming across any students," he reassured, "They should all be headed towards the Quidditch pitch to watch the match."

Hadrian walked in step with the taller man toward the door, making a mental note to ask what Quidditch was. The door opened at the professor's hand, "After you, Mr Jameson."

After barely a second hesitation, Hadrian stepped out of the safety of the hospital wing, and into his home for the foreseeable future.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Sunday night, and Hadrian was staring out of his bedroom window with his mind swimming. Professor Dumbledore had taken him on a tour of the castle the day before, to familiarise him with the school before he started classes. He had learned of the moving staircases and been caught in a trick step. After being pulled out by the chuckling professor, Hadrian had been warned of the mischief the castle would get up to. The doors pretending to be walls amused him greatly, as he imagined the frustration of staff that had lost their classrooms. He had been introduced to several ghosts, many of whom enjoyed wandering the castle while students were out the way and couldn't walk through them. Hogwarts was truly entertaining.

The reason for Hadrian's busy mind came in the form of a young man, by the name of Tom Riddle. On meeting this charismatic young man, Hadrian had completely humiliated himself, and cringed when thinking back on it.

_Hadrian had just met Peeves for the first, and hopefully the last, time. After instructions to behave from Dumbledore, Peeves had pouted childishly and shot off through the high ceiling. It was only a minute afterwards that an almighty crash was heard, followed by a series of smaller crashes. Moments later, a first year Gryffindor girl was running down the stairs towards her Head of House. _

"_Professor Dumbledore sir! Thank goodness you're here!" she panted frantically, two long, red plaits bouncing jerkily as she tried to catch her breath._

"_Yes Miss Prewitt?" Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder soothingly, encouraging her to calm down enough to speak._

"_Sir," she gasped, "Sir, Peeves has just tipped over the cabinet in the trophy room! I've spent an hour detention cleaning the plaques, and he just tipped it right over!" The girl had gone from looking distressed to outraged, "The cabinet hit the floor so hard that all of the other trophies tumbled off the shelves from the shaking. Am I going to have to clean this up sir? Slughorn only assigned me one hour and it wasn't my fault!" All of this had been said in one breath, and by the end she was stood with her hands on her hips and a determined expression on her pink face._

"_It's _Professor_Slughorn dear…" the girl scowled at this, "… and you won't have to clean it up. Run along to the pitch now, and if you see Professor Slughorn, be sure to tell him you have served your detention in full." As the girl ran off gratefully, Dumbledore turned to Hadrian, "I am going to put the trophy room in order. I should be done in a few minutes. Feel free to speak to the portraits while you wait for me, but be sure not to wander." He finished rather sternly._

_Hadrian watched as the professor swept away importantly. He intended on staying put, having no intention of coming across the poltergeist again anytime soon. As he leaned gingerly against the wall he caught sight of a portrait a few frames down. The occupant, a rather mad looking knight, had just scrambled onto the back of his horse. He was facing the tail end and waving madly at Hadrian, trying to get his attention._

_He was about to take a step toward the portrait when he hesitated. He _knew_this portrait. He knew it was barmy and would end up driving him mental. This meant that he must have been at the castle before, as according to Dumbledore, every portrait in this particular corridor had been here for at least four hundred years. But then that was impossible. If Hadrian had been to Hogwarts before, at least one member of the faculty should know him. His musings were rudely interrupted by a large glob of mud painfully splattering his left ear and cheek. He turned quickly and discovered, to his horror, that he was only ten feet away from a smirking Peeves, with no Dumbledore to help him._

"_Well if it isn't the little baby new boy," Peeves sneered, mockingly. His hand held another mound of dirt which he waved teasingly at Hadrian, "Did you hide when puberty was due little Jameson?"_

_Hadrian glowered at the poltergeist, preparing to utter a scathing reply. His mind was quickly changed as he saw the menace raise the muddy fist, preparing another throw. He turned and sprinted down the corridor, pleasantly surprised at the speed at which he could run. As he sharply turned the corner, he smacked into a larger figure, before falling gracelessly on his arse. Looking up, he stared into the eyes of what looked to be a Slytherin upperclassman. Despite having someone crash into him unexpectedly, the boy looked completely unruffled. The only acknowledgement he gave to the collision being a raised eyebrow, and a slight sneer on his lips. He looked down at the small, mud-splattered boy as he awaited an explanation._

_Unfortunately for the Slytherin, Hadrian wasn't talking. He was too busy gaping at the boy before him. The young man had stormy grey-green eyes, framed by dark eyebrows. On closer look his eyes seemed to have flecks of red, but Hadrian was sure it must be a trick of light. He was taller than Hadrian, but then everyone he had met so far was taller than him, so this was nothing new. His slim figure was concealed by his green trimmed school robes, and he had thick, dark hair similar to Hadrian's, just shorter. He was only slightly paler than Hadrian, but his facial features were disturbingly similar. Each had the same slim, straight nose and square jaw, the Slytherin's with a slightly more defined edge._

_It wasn't the boy's appearance which had left Hadrian speechless however. It was the feeling that had swept through him when they had been in contact. Despite the briefness of the contact, he had been left with a thoroughly lasting impression. Part of him felt as though he truly __**knew**__ the boy. More than he knew himself at the moment. The boy felt deeply familiar, like a brother maybe. Or a twin. An identical twin at that. Even twin didn't seem right. It didn't feel close enough. In the strangest way, it felt like the boy was part of __**himself**__._

_A soft snort brought Hadrian back to reality. After a few minutes of being stared at, the boy had become impatient and thrust his hand out to help up the young stranger. Hadrian grasped his hand hesitantly, smiling softly at the feeling which rushed through him again. The boy quirked his lip at the little happy shudder Hadrian had made. His attempt to comment was aborted when they heard rapidly approaching footsteps. The larger boy hastily released Hadrian's hand as Dumbledore turned the corner. Dumbledore's relieved expression at finding Hadrian quickly turned suspicious upon seeing his company._

"_Tom." He greeted in a friendly tone, which Hadrian would have believed to be completely genuine if he hadn't caught his prior expression. "I see you have met Mr Jameson."_

"_Only briefly Professor," Tom responded coldly. Turning to Hadrian he nodded courteously, "It was … interesting meeting you Mr Jameson."_

"_And yourself Mr …" Hadrian trailed off uncomfortably, not knowing the boy's surname. He mentally groaned at the dirty, awkward picture he must make._

"_It's Riddle," the boy bit out. His lips were twisted into a slight sneer, and Hadrian could not decide whether it was aimed at him or the name that had been uttered. Riddle nodded again at Hadrian and Dumbledore, before stepping around them and continuing on his way. Hadrian watched him leave, knowing he could never pull of such an effortlessly graceful walk. _

_Dumbledore touched his arm gently to regain his attention, a serious look in his eyes, "You should be careful with Tom, Mr Jameson. He is a perfect example of how looks can deceive."_

_Hadrian's eyebrows had shot into his hairline at this statement. He stiffened slightly at the warning about the person he'd felt so close to. Tom had felt more familiar than his wand even, and he did not like hearing Dumbledore speak poorly of him, regardless of how brief their interaction had been. The longer Hadrian spent with Albus, the more he looked forward to a time where he wouldn't have to be in his constant presence. He quickly smiled at the professor to conceal his less than charitable feelings towards him, and nodded to show he had acknowledged the warning._

_Dumbledore turned and headed back down the corridor, making it clear he expected Hadrian to follow or be left behind. The boy frowned before hurrying to catch up, walking in step with Albus as he continued the tour, complete with a lesson on the history of Hogwarts._

Hadrian's thoughts strayed from Tom briefly as he recalled what had happened at the end of the tour. The quidditch match had lasted for over five hours. Apparently the Hufflepuff seeker had finally caught the snitch three hours after a bludger had taken Ravenclaw's seeker out of the game. Hadrian and Dumbledore had been finishing up the tour in the entrance hall, when the students had returned through the large doors. Many students were removing scarves in their various house colours as they cut off conversations to peer at him curiously. A few nosy Ravenclaws had even completely stopped to stare at him, whispering among each other with their speculations of his identity. They had hastily departed when Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly.

Dumbledore had pulled him away to be introduced to his future professors. The other members of the faculty were particularly energetic after returning from the match, just to be summoned immediately by Headmaster Dippett. They had asked many questions, which when directed at an amnesiac were almost completely pointless. Disappointed by the lad's vague answers, they had gradually departed, promising to help Hadrian in his classes. To Hadrian's relief, it was only an hour later that Albus had walked him to his temporary bedroom. The room was situated on the same corridor as the infirmary; behind a door Hadrian _knew_hadn't been there that morning. Dumbledore had explained that the castle had provided the room on the headmaster's orders.

Once the professor had departed, Hadrian had closed the door gratefully behind him and dropped tiredly onto the crimson and gold quilt. He'd snorted derisively at the favouritism that was being displayed towards Gryffindor, and had no doubt that Dumbledore wanted him to be sorted there. He likely saw Hadrian as a blank canvass, and was attempting to subtly prod him into a Gryffindor frame of mind before his sorting. Dumbledore would have much more access to him if he was sorted into his house, giving him better opportunity to manipulate him with his points of view.

He had woken quite late on Sunday morning, and had stayed in bed for an hour trying to fall back asleep. Eventually, Professor Entwhistle had turned up, prompting Hadrian to hastily dress in his black, conjured robes. Elizabeth Entwhistle had taught Charms at Hogwarts for thirty six years, and it was catching up with her. Her eyes were such a deep blue that they seemed nearly black, and were the only prominent feature on her face. Everything else from the papery, wrinkled skin, to the bobbed grey hair was completely forgettable. The witch was the first person Hadrian had met who was the same height as him. She had looked tired when he met her, and it had carried over to the following day. He got the impression that this was a regular look for her. On the professor's abrupt orders, Hadrian had followed her outside the castle and into a carriage to Hogsmead.

The day had been spent shopping for school robes and supplies, using the orphan fund Hogwarts provided. Many things were bought second hand to stay within the budget, but Hadrian hadn't been fazed by this. It felt rather normal for him to use hand-me-downs. Upon the return to school, the tired young man had holed himself up in his room.

A sigh escaped him as he watched raindrops trickle down the glass of the window. He did not know what to expect tomorrow, when he would sit on that stool in front of his new schoolmates. He would be surprised if he ended up in Gryffindor. They seemed far too impulsive in his opinion. Miss Prewitt's rant at her head of house the day before had been a perfect demonstration of speaking thoughtlessly. The boy had been stunned when Dumbledore had allowed the disrespect without reprimanding the fiery redhead once, other than to correct her on the title of the potion master. He had brushed it off as though that was what was to be expected from his students, yet had showed a completely different attitude toward the Slytherin boy. That same Slytherin boy had, in Hadrian's opinion, demonstrated perfect manners despite his obvious dislike of the professor.

Although it was only nine thirty in the evening, Hadrian decided it was time to turn in. The day had been long, and he was physically and mentally exhausted from his active weekend. He was expecting another tiring day tomorrow, considering everything that had been planned for him. He doused the torch on the stone wall with a flick of his wand, and climbed into the bed. His head had barely touched the golden pillow before he was deeply asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It's wonderful that people are enjoying the story so far, and it has already made some favourites lists. I truly appreciate the time people have taken to express their thoughts, and it helps inspire me to write more as I know people are reading it ………… Back to the story.**

The gentle trickle of rain from Sunday evening had developed overnight into a full blown storm. The torrential downpour battered against the Headmaster's window as if every drop was trying to get inside from the cold. Despite the warmth of the room he occupied, Hadrian couldn't help the shiver running through him as he imagined the cold outside. Despite being eight in the morning, the overcast sky made it feel much later. Had he not known better, Hadrian would have woken up under the impression it was still night-time.

A soft clearing of the headmaster's throat drew Hadrian's attention. He had been stood near the window, arms wrapped around him as though they were the only things holding him together. Armando Dippett suspected that this was to calm the tremor the small brunet had been experiencing since entering the office. He was beyond anxious about the upcoming Sorting. He was soon to ender a new world, where hundreds of his peers would focus solely on him being, essentially, judged.

Hadrian shuffled toward the Headmaster, black school robes pulled tightly around his plain school uniform. His robe and tie were adorned with the Hogwarts crest, until the appropriate House insignia and colours were chosen by the historical hat. His hands wrung nervously as he shifted from foot to foot, fingertips white with blood deprivation from how tightly they had been wound together. Headmaster Dippett sighed and took pity on him, gesturing for him to sit down.

"You really have nothing to worry about Mr Jameson," the Headmaster grunted as he shifted his considerably girth, attempting to make himself more comfortable in his seat. Although Hadrian had been given a squishy red armchair to sit in, the Headmaster has chosen a high-backed, winged chair, which he was not quite trim enough to fit easily into. Hadrian was given the impression that despite the portly man's _kind _gesture of providing an informal chair for him, the fact he has kept such a … throne-like chair for himself seemed like a power play. The young man felt as though he had been given the children's chair. He frowned and wondered whether he was maybe paranoid and seeing hidden agendas where there were none.

His attention was brought back to the Headmaster when the older man coughed pointedly and narrowed his hazel eyes.

"You are rather easily distracted, aren't you Hadrian"

Hadrian blushed, embarrassed at being caught not paying attention, "I apologise Sir," he muttered, "I didn't mean to lose focus."

"Not to worry lad," the Headmaster reassured, "Although I hope the curriculum should hold your attention." Hadrian ducked his head, black locks falling in his eyes as the educator continued, "We shall be heading downstairs in a few minutes. I shall introduce you to the students and you will be sorted before breakfast starts. This way, you can eat with your housemates."

Hadrian nodded at this, although his stomach disagreed with the idea of eating for a while. The Headmasters continued with his encouragement for a few more minutes, reminding the boy that every student at Hogwarts had been through their own sorting at a much younger age, and would sympathise with him. He finished by looking at the brass carriage clock on his desk and standing abruptly, gesturing for Hadrian to do the same.

"We should be heading down now Hadrian." Armando explained, "Any later and we will be keeping the growing children from their breakfast, and I doubt they will thank us for such an occurrence. Best to make a good impression"

Hadrian hurried to keep up as they headed towards the Great Hall. As they passed through the Entrance Hall, he stared longingly at the large doors, wondering if he could dart through them and run for freedom through the grounds, never to return. An ominous rumble of thunder quickly curbed those thoughts, reminding him of the marshlands the grounds had become in the storm. Running through ankle deep mud sounded slightly less appealing than the impending Sorting.

His gaze was drawn to the Headmaster as he opened the Great Hall doors. After telling Hadrian to stay put in the doorway, Professor Dippett made his way toward the Head table. A heavy silence fell as hundreds of eyes turned to Hadrian, ignoring Dippett entirely. The silence was quickly replaced by a low murmuring, like the very air was vibrating. Hundreds of students had turned to their table-mates to discuss the new arrival, many recognising him from after the quidditch match. It took everything Hadrian had to not cringe at the attention focussed on him. Instead he stared ahead, the very picture of nonchalance. He would rather not give an opportunity for his classmates to get the slightest whiff of his nerves. Teenagers could smell fear, and use it to their advantage.

The students' attention was finally drawn away as the Headmaster stood at the podium to introduce Hadrian.

"If I can have your attention please," Dippett announced, his voice rose to encourage more heads to turn his way, "As many of you have noticed, we have a new student. Mr Hadrian Jameson has, up until now been educated at home. He is starting Hogwarts as a sixth year, and I hope you all make him feel welcome. If you would Mr Jameson, it is time to be sorted into your House."

Hadrian mentally groaned at the Headmaster's speech, which had just effectively announcing his naivety in the ways of public schools. He dearly hoped none of the students would use the knowledge as an opportunity to deceive him. He proceeded towards the front of the hall, holding back a scowl at the method Dippett had chosen to announce him. He would have much preferred it if he could have entered discreetly through the rear door, had a vague introduction and been Sorted. But no! The headmaster had chosen to have him wait by the doors, and walk alone across the large hall while every eye watched. It irritated him to realise that he walked far differently to his normal, relatively relaxed style when he knew everybody was staring; his stiff, awkward gait betrayed the discomfort he had been trying to disguise with false confidence.

As he stepped up to the stool, he was handed a battered looking, patched hat by the transfiguration professor. Professor Dumbledore gestured for Hadrian to sit, before taking a step back and watching him expectantly. Hadrian took a deep breath before turning to face the student body, and slowly sitting on the hard stool. He lifted the tattered hat, eyes skimming over those of his new schoolmates before locking onto a familiar grey-green pair. The dark raised eyebrow of Tom Riddle was the last thing he saw before the lip of the hat obscured his view.

"_Well I must say Mr Jameson, yours is by far one of the more interesting minds I have encountered!"_

Hadrian barely stopped himself from leaping from his seat, so startled was he when the voice whispered in his mind. As it was, he still heard a few soft snickers from his audience in reaction to his small jump.

"_Amnesia eh? Absolutely fascinating! I cannot say that I have Sorted an amnesiac before. You have few memories I can observe, but you are not new to being Sorted. I can tell as much."_

Hadrian frowned, wondering if Sorting was a widely used procedure he may have experienced. It did feel vaguely familiar.

"_I can assure you Mr Jameson, I am the only Sorting artefact that I am aware of,"_ the hat hissed, in response to his unasked question, _"It must have been at this school you were Sorted. But I know I have never Sorted you … not all of you anyway…"_

The hat trailed off, causing green eyes to widen in total bewilderment. How could he have been only partially Sorted? And why did the hat not know him, but remembered Sorting some part of him? It made absolutely no sense at all. The hat was unfortunately not forthcoming with answers.

"_You will find out soon enough I am sure lad." _It chuckled, _"It is time me to decide your new home."_

Hadrian nodded, quickly grasping the hat to keep it on his head.

"_I shall put you were I put the rest of part of you," _the hat whispered, _"Part of you can get to know the rest of itself better, while the rest of you can discover yourself. It is fortunate that the rest of yourself holds similar traits to part of you. You will do well together!"_

Hadrian clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in frustration, praying for patience. The hat provided no answers, just more riddles. Poorly worded riddles at that. He could feel a headache starting to build as he tried to understand what the hat was saying. He decided to make a note of the hat's comments later, to see if he could make any sense of them.

"_I'm glad you are taking initiative to discover yourselves," _Hadrian groaned in exasperation, _"Let's not keep the children from their breakfasts shall we. I shall place you in … SLYTHERIN!"_

The last word was shouted for all to hear, startling Hadrian again. He lifted the hat from his head, passing it to Dumbledore as he stood. His mind was racing, and he barely noticed the suspicious glint in his teacher's eye. Stepping down from the podium, the ebony haired boy headed towards the clapping Slytherin students, looking for a space to sit. His gaze was pulled like a magnet to Tom, who had glared imperiously at the unfortunate student next to him, until she caught on and hastily moved down a space.

Hadrian smiled gratefully and seated his small frame beside Riddle, not noticing the incredulous looks of his housemates. In seven years not one of them had ever seen the aloof boy make any friendly overtures. He had certainly never acknowledged anyone who didn't display complete poise and confidence. He was known to sneer and turn away when awkward, insecure students would fall over themselves in their attempts to garner his attention. Everyone wanted a piece of Tom. Any Slytherin truly worthy of his House knew that Tom Riddle would go far in life. The cunning students felt no shame in riding on his coat-tails if it ended in success for them. They each knew they would have to play their part and keep themselves useful, if they intended to keep in the company of the boy they held such awe for.

Hadrian was totally oblivious to the thoughts of his classmates. Considering he could not get them off his mind only five minutes earlier, he was now completely unaware of the Slytherins' fascination, the Ravenclaws' speculation, and the suspicion of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. His attention had been entirely absorbed by Tom since he had taken his place beside the taller boy.

"Hello," the strong voice Hadrian had been hoping for came out as a rather embarrassing squeak. Another raised eyebrow was his response, before Riddle's expression warmed slightly. Only slightly, but it was just visible when Hadrian looked hard enough.

Tom looked down at Hadrian in well disguised fascination. The small boy had admittedly been on his mind since their collision two days prior. He had felt the strangest rush of familiarity … kinship even when they had touched. He had concealed his shock well at the time. Years of showing little emotion had caused him to often wonder if he felt it less than others. He had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, as that was just a display of vulnerability in Tom's opinion. Vulnerability was something the dark haired boy has made a reputation of showing was non-existent in him. Showing weakness was just careless and foolish. He had held his distance from everyone he had ever encountered, filling his life with acquaintances, no true friends to speak of.

It was due to this that he found the young stranger both interesting, and potentially dangerous. It had taken only a second of interaction for Tom to feel closer to Hadrian than he had felt to anyone he had met before ... ever. The situation was highly disconcerting and he didn't know quite what to make of it. He held such little trust for the human race that he found himself extremely wary of the new boy, and the alien feelings he invoked in him. So Tom smiled, and plotted. He would get to know Hadrian Jameson. He would discover Hadrian's agenda and decide what to do from there. It was not paranoia when people were really out to get you. Self preservation was the Slytherin way, and Tom, being Salazar Slytherin's last descendant had every intention of following his ancestor's advice.

Hadrian felt himself relax significantly at the acceptance Tom was showing him. He was starting to feel like he was truly home. The sudden reappearance of his appetite had him turning to the food which had appeared at the Headmaster's order, and reaching eagerly for the scrambled eggs. The other students had stopped paying attention to Hadrian when the delicious scents permeating the room tugged impatiently on their hunger. Throughout the Great Hall, students and faculty alike were tucking into their breakfast and resuming conversation.

As the last scraps of food were being consumed, Professor Slughorn appeared behind Hadrian to hand him his timetable. Hadrian sighed in sudden dismay, as he realised his potential friend would not share any classes with him. At seventeen years of age, Tom Marvolo Riddle was in his final year of Hogwarts, the year above Hadrian. He would have to prepare to attend classes with complete strangers, whom had known each other for years. He had some work to do to not only acquaint himself with his peers, but catch up with the month of education he had missed. With any luck he would find someone willing to help him.

He stood with his classmates and headed toward the doors exiting the hall, tucking his timetable into the pocket of his robes on his way. He noticed as he did this that the previously black robe now had a green and silver trim, with a snake embellishment on the breast pocket. Hadrian Orion Jameson was officially a Slytherin. He grinned as he imagined Dumbedore's dismay at the failed manipulations, and headed with his fellow sixth years towards the dungeons for his very first Potions lesson.


	7. Chapter 7

**Continued thanks for the wonderful reviews and support. On with the story ...**

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At Professor Slughorn's instruction, Hadrian found himself perched between two of his fellow Slytherins at the front desk. They had briefly managed to introduce themselves before the lesson began. On Hadrian's left sat Orion Black, a tall brunette with a stocky build, strong jaw and pale blue eyes. Abraxas Malfoy sat on the stool to Hadrian's right. Vibrant silver eyes were set in a deathly pale, rather pointed face. His features were offset against shoulder length, platinum hair which has been tied at his nape with a silk green ribbon. His build was much closer to that of Tom; tall and slim, yet sturdy. He had clearly been fed better than Hadrian growing up. His aristocratic attitude implied that he had in fact been very well-fed through childhood, by wealthy pureblood parents at that.

Hadrian had been sneered at en mass the moment he had entered the Potions classroom. Many of his Gryffindor classmates had already reached the dungeons, and had clearly tarred him with the same brush as his housemates. Only a few seemed genuinely curious about the new boy, instead of suspicious. Slughorn had entered moments afterwards, and exuberantly welcomed him, gesturing to the empty seat between Black and Malfoy. He had sat cautiously in front of the large pewter cauldron, and hoped that his prior self had been an exemplary Potions student.

Hadrian soon found out that he was _not_ an exemplary Potions student. He was not an awful student, but he was definitely not above average by any measure. He had been rescued twice by a helpful Malfoy, who had explained the need to _shred_ the Valerian root, not _chop. _He had also explained that ingredients needed to be weighed immediately before being added to the brew, as doing so at the start on the lesson didn't take into account the weight lost during shredding. Hadrian was more than grateful for the assistance being provided. He knew that left to his own devices, he likely would have humiliated himself with an exploded cauldron.

Despite Hadrian's intention to be open minded upon entering his new world, he realised Dumbledore's regular _subtle_ warnings about Slytherins had managed to get through, and had left him with preconceived notions of how he may be treated. He was quickly realising that he would be seeing the Slytherins from a completely different perspective than Dumbledore had in his own school years. He could admit that he was unsurprised of the opinions Dumbledore had, seeing how Slytherins acted towards Gryffindors. They clearly enjoyed provoking the 'lion-hearted' classmates, but it was not at all one-sided.

Hadrian discovered very quickly that Slytherins stuck together, and they had therefore showed him a tentative welcome. They were willing to support him if it helped the House, as demonstrated by Malfoy's volunteered assistance. He hoped that this would continue outside the classroom, as he quickly found that students could be vicious. There seemed to be a dark history between Abraxas Malfoy and an obnoxious, red-headed Gryffindor, judging by the whispered barbs between the two.

"If you don't mind me asking," Hadrian whispered, stirring his viscous blue potion, "What is the feud with Weasley about?" He hoped he wasn't being too forward, but he wished to know his housemates better if he intended to live with them.

Abraxas smiled stiffly, his gaze flickering to Septimus Weasley before turning back to his cauldron. He tipped in his Shrivelfigs before responding, "I don't mind you asking, Jameson," he assured the nervous boy. His demeanour was relaxed and his voice low and smooth as he continued, "The Malfoys and Weasleys have a … complicated … history. Most of the Slytherins are already aware of our rivalry so this is not exactly news I am telling you."

Hadrian nodded, turning to his cauldron to change the direction of his stirring, before turning back to hear Malfoy's story.

Just over a decade ago, my family entered into a contract with the Weasley patriarch, to marry my Aunt Lyra to the heir at the time, Geoffrey Weasley. Business contracts were drawn up, to improve the wealth of both families significantly, not that we Malfoys needed it." Abraxas assured him. Hadrian smiled encouragingly, nodding for him to continue.

"The preparations had been made many months in advance. My grandfather had followed tradition by funding most of the wedding. He had provided many Galleons and gifts to the Weasley patriarch, following Wizarding custom, and do you know how Geoffrey Weasley repaid his generosity Hadrian?" Hadrian didn't respond, fully aware that the question had been rhetorical.

"Weasley waited until the day of the wedding, for my Aunt to put on her hand-made gown, to decide that he did not wish to marry a Malfoy after all. He wished to marry the Mudblood he had been carrying on with!" Abraxas made a quiet sound of disgust. His calm whispering had become an outraged hiss during his tale, "The coward did not attend the wedding at all! There were no apologies! My family were left humiliated. We had been disregarded by a Weasley of all creatures! Business contracts fell through left and right, and the Malfoy name spent a year being dragged through the mud. It took a lot of time and effort on my grandfather's part to regain our wealth and reputation."

Hadrian's eyes were wide as he had listened to the tale. Black had hastily interfered with Hadrian's cauldron to stop the imminent explosion due to Hadrian's neglect, so entranced in the story was the small brunet. Hadrian smiled widely in thanks to Orion, taking hold of the ladle from the large boy's hand and adding his next ingredient. Malfoy's potion was emitting a pearlescent silver steam, proving it had been made perfectly despite the distraction caused by his storytelling.

"Was Geoffrey Weasley reprimanded for his actions?" Hadrian asked quietly. He had been enraptured by the story and was curious how it had developed into the current feud.

A low snort came from Hadrian's left. His head whipped around to look at Black, who had taken it upon himself to answer the question. Blue eyes twinkled in vicious mirth as he responded, "Oh yes, Weasley suffered… every Weasley suffered. In fact, I expect the Weasleys will be suffering for generations to come!" Hadrian's eyebrow rose at the boy's delighted expression. It seemed that Malfoy was not the only one who harboured ill will for the Weasleys. Black continued in a hurried whisper, eyes never moving from his cauldron. He was very close to the final stage now and could not afford to lose his focus.

"Nothing and nobody keeps a Malfoy down, isn't that right Abraxas?" Malfoy tilted his pointed chin proudly in agreement, patiently decanting his potion into a flask for Slughorn's inspection.

"What happened?" Hadrian whispered when Black wasn't immediately forthcoming.

Black decanted his potion, before turning to assist Hadrian with his own, "Abraxas' grandfather went on the warpath!" Orion grinned ferally, recalling the tale of the blood-traitors' downfall. "He first ensured that he was compensated by the Weasleys for every Knut he had contributed toward the Wedding-That-Never-Was. The Weasley name had already been dirtied by the despicable acts of the heir, and Delphinus Malfoy used this to his advantage. He used his own influence and cunning to turn every self-respecting pureblood against the family. No-one wanted to do business with traitors, and after only a few years, the family had fallen into destitution."

Hadrian quickly made a mental note to never get on the bad side of a Malfoy, not that he currently had anything of value to lose. Abraxas had taken his flask to Slughorn, and Hadrian was capping his own flask as Orion finished his tale.

"The Weasleys have never recovered from Geoffrey's slur on Lyra Malfoy. They live in poverty, and after losing his businesses, the patriarch now works in a low-level ministry job. I hear he has not spoken to Geoffrey since. The old man would have been living in opulence right now were it not for his foolish son. Instead he works well into his retirement age. I would be amazed if the Weasleys every make anything of themselves in Wizarding Britain again." Black nodded discreetly towards Septimus, who was occupied with his furiously spitting potion, "Their sons hold a grudge naturally, and Septimus and Abraxas have been at loggerheads ever since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express." Black snickered with his final comment, "It is widely believed to be poetic justice that first born son of Geoffrey Weasley and his Mudblood, is a useless Squib."

Hadrian was frowning as he made his way to Slughorn, barely acknowledging the professor as his flask was taken from him. He already disliked Septimus Weasley after the sneers that had been directed at him from the rude red-head upon entrance to the Potions classroom. The boy appeared to be prejudice against all Slytherins, and he wondered whether this was due to the feud with the Malfoys, or the general arrogance that had been displayed by most 'light' wizards Hadrian had so far encountered. It seemed that he had been Sorted into the minority house, destined to struggle for credibility if he did decide to choose the 'light' side.

He could not decide whether Delphinus' decision to punish an entire family and its future generations for the actions of one member was too extreme. He understood that the Malfoys had suffered, and Geoffrey needed to be punished, but he wondered if it could have been done without completely destroying relations between them for years to come, if not forever.

As Hadrian made his way back to his desk, he felt a foot hook around his ankle, tripping him. With no time to stop the fall, he held his hands in front of his face, hoping to minimise the damage. Fortunately for Hadrian, his fall was prevented by the large hands of Orion Black catching his shoulders. Icy blue eyes were glaring at Septimus Weasley, who smiled cockily before addressing Hadrian.

"You should pay attention to where you slither, Little Snake," he mocked. "I see you have been at this school less than a week and you're already worming your way in with the darkest wizards here! I knew you were as slimy as the rest of them!"

Students started to gather in hopes to witness the argument first hand. Slughorn had retreated to the storeroom after dismissing the students, leaving no authority figure to interfere. Abraxas had stepped to Hadrian's left during Weasley's tirade, handing him his glasses which had fallen when he had been tripped. Hadrian nodded in thanks, before sighing at the large crack on the lens.

After a sneer at Septimus, Orion tapped softly on Hadrian's wrist, tilting his head to the door, "Let us not waste time with filthy rabble Hadrian," he sniffed, disregarding the outraged look on Weasley's face. Orion turned Hadrian by his shoulder, and started heading toward the door as Abraxas handed them their bags. Weasley flushed brightly at being dismissed so easily, and lashed out again verbally, choosing Black as his target this time.

"Be sure to direct the lovely Cedrella to me this evening. She is likely worn out after last night, but I am sure she would be happy to have another go of it with me again tonight," he smiled lasciviously before continuing, "I assure you that your sister doesn't find Weasley men filthy at all!" Many of their classmates gasped, while Weasley's friends snickered.

Black spun rapidly, nostrils flaring in rage at Weasley's implications, "My sister would not dare besmirch the Black name by fraternising with a disgusting blood-traitor!"

Weasley grinned victoriously; delighted with the response he had managed to get from the normally cool Black heir. Before the dispute could continue, Professor Slughorn exited the storeroom, hurrying the loitering sixth-years toward the exit. He had another class to prepare for.

"It's time for Charms," Abraxas stated in a low voice, turning his back to the Gryffindors and pushing his housemates to the door. He hissed something in Orion's ear, who quickly regained his calm façade and strode out of the classroom.

"Shall we, Jameson?" Abraxas asked expectantly. Hadrian hastened to catch up with Orion, and headed towards Charms with his friends, wondering if there had been any truth in Weasley's lewd comments.

* * *

The day had become less interesting after Potions. Classes were relatively boring, and Hadrian realised that Potions was the only class he had struggled in so far. Of course, he had not experienced every subject on his timetable on his first day, but he hoped he would not have too much difficulty in his other classes. He decided that he could possibly need a tutor in Potions, as he didn't want to rely too heavily on the assistance of Black and Malfoy in every class. He doubted they would appreciate him diverting their attention from their own learning too often.

He sat in a stiff backed, green leather armchair, looking intently around his new common room. His eyes roamed over several housemates whom had also chosen to study in the more social setting. Hadrian didn't want to alienate himself by hiding away in his dorm room. He intended to befriend more than just his fellow yearmates. He needed to make connections if he wanted to discover what role he would be taking in life, and who would help him get there.

His attention was drawn to the entrance, which was opening to admit several seventh year students, including one Head Boy who was currently at the top of Hadrian's 'get-to-know' list. Jade eyes locked with stormy green, and Hadrian had an idea. Hadrian needed a tutor, and Tom Riddle was the best student in school; top of every class and reading ahead of the curriculum. Hadrian dearly hoped that Riddle would have the time for him. He didn't want to have to think of a different plausible excuse to spend time with Tom. Tutoring would have them in a quiet, personal setting, and give Hadrian the chance to explore this kinship he felt with the young man. He would also be learning from the school's most intelligent student.

Tom had sat in a nearby chair, pulling a thick tome from his bag and preparing to relax for an hour before they would need to head to dinner. He could feel the younger boy's presence as he approached; the familiar aura instantly recognisable as it drew closer. He closed his book and looked up into verdant eyes, raising a dark eyebrow in question.

Hadrian shuffled slightly, and then mentally berated himself for his display of anxiety. He knew if he wanted anything from Tom he would need to be calm and confident. He was asking a big favour of someone he hardly knew, but hoped Tom would have sympathy for his newness, and curiosity about their connection. He knew Tom had felt it too. Maybe if Tom declined, he could play on Riddle's role as Head Boy and his responsibility to his fellow Slytherins. He realised he had no idea what method would work, if any worked at all, and he would have to ask now so as not to look even more like a fool. He had already reached Tom, and had been stood quietly for a few seconds already, saying nothing while Tom stared at him.

Finally, Hadrian took a deep breath and decided on an honest approach, "Hello Tom," he murmured quietly, trying to keep the conversation private.

"Hello Hadrian," Tom responded just as quietly, red flecks glinting in his eyes as he stared at the boy. He had noticed the boy's attempts at bolstering his confidence and grinned internally, keeping his expression smooth and indifferent. He knew Hadrian wanted to ask something of him, and he decided that regardless of what that request was, it would be interesting. It may even be an opportunity to learn more about the enigma that was Hadrian Orion Jameson. Tom smiled warmly to relax the boy, and awaited his next sentence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the wonderful reviews. I am glad so many of you are enjoying it and I plan to make chapters longer as I go. I also have every intention of keeping the updates as regular as possible providing real life doesn't get in the way. Onto chapter 8 … **

* * *

Hadrian exhaled more sharply than intended, hoping to expel his nerves with his breath.

"Tom," he started hesitantly, before gathering his false confidence around him like a cloak, and changing his tone to one more formal, "I have been informed by the Headmaster that you are Head Boy, and quite far ahead in your classes." The small brunet had decided to start with flattery. His experience with the Slytherins so far had already taught him that they warmed to him much sooner when having their egos stroked. If rumour were to be believed, their Head of House was a prime example of this.

Tom barely suppressed a smirk upon hearing the boy's compliment, already aware that he wanted something and amused by the technique being used to get it. He managed to hold his placid expression as Hadrian continued his request.

"I was wondering … providing you're not too busy of course … if you can tutor me in Potions?" Hadrian clamped his lips shut after his request, and tried to keep his naked hope from being displayed in his expression. Judging by Tom's smirk, he had not concealed it very well.

Tom was admittedly surprised at the straightforward request. He was more accustomed to subtlety from his housemates; trades of favours and even attempts at manipulation from more ambitious classmates. This boy barely knew him, yet he had requested a favour like a naïve Hufflepuff. He had to wonder whether this was truly a simple request from a new classmate in need, or something more underhanded. After all, the Sorting Hat had surely placed Hadrian in Slytherin for a reason, and the mysterious boy _had _appeared from nowhere; in the company of Albus Dumbledore no less.

Riddle was incredibly curious about the younger boy. No other person had ever caught his interest so thoroughly. Regardless of how fascinated the bespectacled boy made him however, he had no intention of throwing caution to the wind. Yes, Hadrian was different, but Tom knew well not to trust an earnest smile and innocent face. Merlin only knew Tom was capable of displaying an innocent face of his own. He had his headmaster and teachers (with the exception of Dumbledore) completely enamoured with his perfect, honest Head Boy persona. If anybody knew the atrocities he had committed in the last year alone, they would have a very different opinion of Tom Riddle.

Tom came out of his brief introspection to realise that Hadrian was staring at him expectantly. The boy had started to shuffle very slightly; barely noticeable but Tom was a very attentive individual. After all, observation was integral to one's survival. Tom had learned this at the orphanage when the muggle boys would scheme to get him into trouble. The boys were all punished. Tom had made sure of that.

"I'll have to think about it," Tom drawled, taking in the boy's crestfallen expression, "I shall need to consult my timetable. As you are surely aware, my role is a rather busy one. A lot of my time is spent helping students like you; not just in Slytherin, but the whole school. Between that and maintaining my grades, I must ensure that tutoring you will not be detrimental our education. I naturally intend to avoid any hindrance to my own learning, but I also wish for you to have a tutor who will be able to dedicate themselves thoroughly to helping you. If I cannot help, I'm sure I will be able to find someone who will."

Hadrian nodded reluctantly, trying to keep his expression neutral. He supposed another tutor would do the job, but it wouldn't help him figure out Riddle.

"Thank you," he murmured, smiling gratefully as he sat back on his seat.

"I will let you know by the end of the week who your tutor will be, whether myself or one of your classmates."

Tom knew he would need this time to make his decision. He wanted to learn more about Hadrian, and he was at no risk of falling behind in his classes, but he did not wish to rush into anything just yet. He would take the week to prepare himself for any potential manipulations on Hadrian's behalf. If the boy was no immediate risk, he would take the role of tutor. He decided that there was no time like the present to learn more about his newest housemate, and relaxed back into his seat. He had a devious idea of how to gain his information. It was not at all moral, or even legal, but it would do the job sufficiently.

"So Hadrian, tell me about yourself." The _friendly_ suggestion had a slightly demanding undertone to it.

His advanced studies of the Hogwarts library restricted section had helped Tom to become very proficient at non-verbal, and in some cases, wandless magic. He utilised these skills often by backing up his commands with a compulsion charm. The casting of which being unnoticeable to the eye; it was rather efficient at acquiring honest answers from unsuspecting victims. Tom was intelligent enough not to risk using this on the likes of Dumbledore, who would likely feel the charm immediately, but he had no qualms using it on young Jameson.

* * *

Hadrian blanched at Tom's query. In that one sentence the young man's mind had been wiped blank of every lie his professors had ever implanted, and he found himself completely flustered. In only a few days he had become rather accustomed to concealing his emotion, and from an outsiders point of view he appeared to be merely contemplating where to start. Hadrian's mind was in fact a myriad of frantic thoughts, trying to recall a single word of what Dumbledore and Dippett had spent hours trying to ingrain into him.

Regardless of how hard he tried to recall his story, Hadrian's mind came up empty of any useful thoughts. Memories of the infirmary interrogation came to mind, and before he knew it, words were suddenly pouring from his mouth unimpeded; spewing the truth he had held every intention of keeping to himself. He later theorised that he must have subconsciously felt that a lie to Tom would be a waste of breath, as the older boy would likely notice the deception.

"I don't know. I … I know little about myself or my past." He babbled, voice almost inaudible as he uttered his distressing truth.

Tom had barely parted his lips to respond before Hadrian abruptly stood and scurried to his dorm, horrified at what he had revealed. Upon entering the room, he staggered to his allocated bed and flopped onto silk green blanket, forearm thrown across his eyes. Abraxas Malfoy, the room's only other occupant, watched this display with interest before hesitantly approaching the boy.

"Is there anything wrong Jameson?" he questioned, blond eyebrow raised at the rather dramatic pose Hadrian was displaying.

Hadrian quickly pulled his arm from his face, schooling his features into a bland expression.

"Not at all Malfoy," he replied despondently, "It has just been a long day."

Malfoy nodded disbelievingly before turning towards the opening door. Hadrian followed his gaze before gasping softly at the entering student. Red flecked eyes scanned the small form before flickering to meet silver, "If you will excuse us Malfoy, I have some business to attend to with Mr Jameson."

Malfoy's left eye twitched in indignation at the implied dismissal, "You have your own rooms Riddle, with no other occupants to bother you. Surely you will have much more privacy speaking to Mr Jameson there?"

Tom stared at Malfoy for almost a full minute before the blond averted his gaze in submission, "Come Hadrian," he murmured, sneering slightly at the Malfoy heir, "Mr Malfoy is correct. We have much to discuss about your educational development, and the Head Boy quarters will be much quieter."

Hadrian huffed quietly; unhappy he would not escape from the impending interrogation, and silently berated himself for revealing his vulnerability. The agreed upon story had come back to him now, but it was already too late. A large part of him wanted to recklessly tell Tom everything, while the rest held caution against revealing too much too soon. His amnesia could be exploited easily, and he did not want the information in the hands of potential enemies. He debated internally with the merits of going alone with Tom, until a throat cleared impatiently. Tom was waiting by the dorm room door, a dark eyebrow threatening to rise; Hadrian could almost see it already. He sighed softly and pulled himself to his feet, before reluctantly following Tom out if the sixth year dorm.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was an unhappy wizard. He had held high hopes that Hadrian Jameson would be placed in his house this morning, and his disappointment was rather uncharacteristically displayed for all to see. Fortunately for Professor Dumbledore, only one other person occupied the room with him. Headmasters Dippett sat in his favourite chair and merely observed as Albus paced the office repeatedly.

"I don't understand why you are so distressed Albus." He stated tiredly. He had observed his Deputy's agitated demeanour in growing concern. Albus Dumbledore had always appeared to be a collected individual, but the man had started to show glimpses of stress taking its toll in the last year or so. Dippett was aware of the relationship Albus had shared with Gellert Grindelwald as youngsters, and felt incredibly sympathetic towards the man who had been betrayed so terribly by his closest companion. At first he had been wary of Albus' judgement of character, considering the last person he had cared for had become a ruthless Dark Lord. Over the years though, he had come to trust Albus' opinion and looked to him for council on difficult issues.

This trust had started to wane ever so slightly of late. It had happened slowly, but he had on occasion noticed a favouritism being displayed by Albus toward Gryffindor students. This was not unheard of by Heads of Houses, and the Transfiguration professor had always redeemed himself by treating Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students very fairly and tolerantly. It was the treatment of Slytherin students which had Armando Dippett concerned. Once upon a time Albus had treated all of his students equally and justly, but his unfounded suspicion of the orphan Tom Riddle had gradually developed into a general dislike of the boy's classmates too.

Albus had come back from his first interaction with Tom seven years ago, before the boy had even started Hogwarts, with a disquieting air about him. He had assured his superior that there was nothing to be concerned about, but had kept a close eye on the boy every school year since. Dippett had never seen a reason to be suspicious of the boy. The young man was a hard worker, coming from a deprived childhood into a new world and excelling admirably. The Headmaster was in fact quite fond of the charming lad, which was part of the reason he had appointed him Head Boy.

Armando sighed under his breath as Dumbledore finally took a seat in the squashy armchair. The sooner this war ended and Riddle graduated, the better. Hopefully, the removal of these stress triggers would bring the old Albus back, and Armando's Deputy would be back on full form again. Then again, there was always the issue of the amnesiac's mysterious appearance. The fact that he had been sorted into Dumbledore's least favourite house apparently hadn't sat well with the auburn haired man. Dippett laced his fingers and waited patiently for Albus to collect himself.

"I am not distressed Armando," Albus assured, "I was merely pondering the next step to take with young Hadrian. I had admittedly hoped that he would be placed in Gryffindor. It would have made it easier for me to have access to the young man and get closer to discovering his true identity and origins. I am concerned that his new classmates may cause him to be wary of the help I could offer him. It is regrettable, but in recent years the Slytherin students seem to hold unfounded suspicion towards me!"

Dippett's eyebrow shot up at this; surely Albus was not unaware of the reason the snake house held dislike for him? The man seemed to think this was completely one-sided.

"How do you think we could help Hadrian any further Albus?" The Headmaster enquired. He had no idea personally how they could get more answers from a boy with no memories. Albus' answer was immediate, and shocking.

"Legilimency," he announced triumphantly, blue eyes twinkling again.

"Legilimency?!" Armando rasped, incredulously, "You want to use legilimens on an underage student with no criminal history? It's illegal Albus! We were incredibly foolish just using Veritaserum on the boy!" Armando was stunned at Dumbledore's flippant suggestion. Despite what Madame Leblanc and Horace Slughorn had been led to believe, a school Headmaster did not have authority to administer Veritaserum to minors without a guardian in attendance. He and Albus had later concocted an explanation that the boy was a potential spy in case they were ever pulled before the ministry Aurors.

Dumbledore had watched the emotions ranging from outrage to distress on his employers face. His idea was a sound one in his opinion.

"It would be with the boy's permission in a supervised setting of course," he said softly, trying to calm the flushed man, "The boy wishes to discover his own identity and past. I just feel that I may be able to get through some of his barriers to unlock the memories…"

"Assuming there are memories to unlock of course." The portly man interrupted rationally.

"You're right of course Headmaster," Albus responded, reverting to his colleague's title in hopes to reassure the man of his authority, "There could be no memories to unlock. The boy may be in fact a complete blank slate, keeping only his education and losing anything related to his identity. This, however, is something we will not know unless I have access to his mind."

Armando sighed louder this time, fingertips pinching the bridge of his nose in a display of discomfort. He hated to openly disagree with his old friend, but there was no way around it this time, "I'm afraid I just cannot allow this Albus. I have done my research and the boy's symptoms are perfectly matched to sufferers of Psychogenic Fugue. St Mungo's healers have attempted to treat this with _Ministry authorised_ use of legilimency with no result. Some sufferers have taken on new identities, much like young Hadrian, and continued with their new life. Others have regained their memories within hours, days or even months. We will just have to wait and see in Mr Jameson's case."

"And if he regains his memories of an undercover spy with plans to infiltrate the school?" Albus rasped, unhappy the normally agreeable man had dismissed his carefully thought out plan.

"We will just have to keep an eye on him Albus. I have already instructed Horace to do the same now the boy has been Sorted into his House."

Albus stood defeated, the twinkle in his eye diminished as he addressed the seated man, "Thank you for your time Armando. If you will excuse me, I have some lesson plans to organise in preparation for tomorrow."

Armando nodded and stood politely as Dumbledore exited the room. He dropped back into his seat as soon as the door closed, rubbing his face tiredly. He was getting too old for this.

* * *

Upon entrance to Tom's quarters, Hadrian could not stop his jaw from dropping. A large, four-poster bed occupied the centre of the room, with silver trimmed, deep green hangings. Grey stone walls held a large portrait of a haughty looking man, whom Hadrian quickly recognised to be Salazar Slytherin. The man sat imperiously in a green cushioned chair, gently stroking a slim, incredibly shiny snake coiled in his palm. Hadrian's eyes were drawn to the dark, iridescent scales which looked as it they had each been heavily polished. It was undeniably beautiful.

Tom had taken a seat by the desk in the corner of the room. The room was rather sparsely furnished. Other than the bed, desk and two chairs, there was only a trunk with the initials T.M.R. engraved on the lid. Hadrian passed a second doorway which he assumed led to Tom's bathroom, before cautiously sitting at the seat opposite the Head Boy.

Tom stared at Hadrian expectantly, before deciding the boy would not be volunteering anymore answers without encouragement.

"Now that we're in a more private setting, I feel it would be safe for you to explain your statement." Tom kept his tone calm, not wanting to alarm the boy. He had of course employed his technique of including a compulsion with his suggestion. It seemed the boy just brought more questions than answers.

It was happening again. Hadrian was unable to stop himself admitting all he knew. He wondered why he had never blurted everything to Malfoy and Black. Clearly he had a disappointing amount of self control.

"I have no idea who I am Tom. I woke up at about 1am on Saturday just passed with no memories or identity." Hadrian croaked. He decided that since he had already admitted the worst, he may as well continue. He actually trusted the taller boy. Only Dumbledore's warnings had encouraged any wariness, and that was quickly dissipating as he saw the other boy nod patiently.

"Headmaster Dippett called Slughorn to use Veritaserum on me when he discovered that I had no memories."

Tom almost choked in disbelief at the laws his Professor had been willing to break in their fear of the Dark Lord. He wondered how he could use this information as Hadrian continued his tale.

"After establishing that I was not a threat, I was enrolled and introduced to the staff that night. I was having my tour when I met you yesterday." Tom nodded in recollection of the collision the day prior.

"Professor Dumbledore told me the story I would tell my classmates, and I was Sorted today." Hadrian finished, shuffling timidly and wary of Tom's response. Would the boy not believe him and kick him out? Would he manipulate him? Or tell his classmates? Hadrian genuinely believed the taller boy would do none of these things, but he was preparing himself for the worst.

Tom's mind was spinning. The ebony haired boy's tale had been fantastical and hardly believable. He was undecided about where to start in dealing with Jameson. His gaze flickered to his ancestor's portrait adorning the wall above his desk.

"_**I think more questions are required, young heir" **_Salazar whispered, his voice taking on a breathy, hissing sound. Hadrian mentally scoffed, unimpressed that the man had thought that speaking quietly through barely parted lips would prevent Hadrian hearing his advice. He was sat the exact same distance as Tom from the portrait, and his hearing was actually rather good; most likely to make up for his poor eyesight.

"What was the story you were intending to tell? I assume you have already been relaying your _history_ to our classmates?" Grey-green eyes bored into emerald, awaiting Hadrian's response.

Hadrian hesitated, still rather disgruntled at the ridiculous whisperings from the Slytherin House founder. Taking a breath he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and outlined the conversation he had held with his professors, "You already heard this morning that I was home schooled up until now?"

At Tom's tilted head he continued, "The official story is that my parents were killed during the summer in the war against Lord Grindelwald. I have no remaining family, and have been enrolled in Hogwarts by the Ministry to complete my education"

Tom snorted derisively upon hearing the young man's explanation, "So let me get this straight…" he started, "Albus Dumbledore gave you a past of losing parents to a violent death and labelled Grindelwald as the executioner? Not only does he have Lord Grindelwald blamed for committing a non-existent and heinous murder, but he encourages you to gain sympathy with classmates for his own cause! I imagine he also had you repeat this story until you almost believed it yourself, using the excuse that you would need to do this in order to make it plausible to others?"

At Hadrian's hesitant nod, Tom continued, "In following Dumbledore's instruction, you have repeated this story so much that you subconsciously added your own details. You partially believe the story, and automatically think of Grindelwald as the enemy yourself. This is how the Light works!" he snapped, impassioned by his realisation, "They act innocent and righteous, but right here is evidence that they will manipulate anyone they can to the cause, while letting the _victim_ think that they're acting of their own volition."

Hadrian was awed by how quickly Tom had reached his conclusion. Perhaps Dumbledore had been right in his implications that Tom was Dark. He now just had to decide if Dark was synonymous with evil. He had been given a lot to think about, and Tom also seemed to want some time alone to consider all he had been told. He almost sighed in relief as Tom gestured for him to stand. The whispering started from the portrait again as the boys stood.

"_**The little boy's story seems to be believable enough Tom, but stay aware. He may appear foolish and naïve, but you know he could also be a consummate actor."**_

Hadrian scowled at the insults Salazar had uttered. It had been a stressful day, and he was unable to stop himself from snapping a response at the founder.

"_**I understand **_**sir **_**that you are wary of me, but I would appreciate it if you would curb your insults, at least until I am out of your presence!"**_

He sharply turned and stormed from the room, earning a few raised eyebrows from his classmates as he passed them heading to his own room. In his haste, he did not see the uncharacteristic dropped jaws of both Tom and Salazar. It seemed that Hogwarts had a new parselmouth. Tom's shocked expression soon became a smirk; more questions than answers indeed!


	9. Chapter 9

**Many, many thanks for the continued reviews. I'm so grateful for the consistant feedback. I must apologise for the delay in updating this chapter. Real life has been busy for the last fortnight and interfering with my writing unforunately. I do expect the next chapter to be up very soon though as I already have a start on writing it. Soooo on with the story ... :)**

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"So…Hadrian," Orion drawled, slurring very slightly from the vast amount of Firewhiskey he had consumed, "We have been trying to decide all week and we must admit you have us completely flummoxed!" His voice rose at the end of the statement and he placed his glass rather heavily on his bedside table, causing a few sticky drops to slosh over onto the polished wood.

Abraxas scoffed and lay back on his bed, amused by the larger boy's vague announcement. Orion always found his tongue loosened when under the influence of his favourite beverage and therefore had enough sense to imbibe only in the presence of fellow Slytherins. Malfoy tilted his foot slightly so it would no longer obscure his view of the boy on the opposite bed, and watched Hadrian's reaction with a half-lidded gaze.

Hadrian blinked, unsure how to respond to such a statement. He was currently sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, nursing his fourth glass of Firewhiskey which certainly wasn't helping to clear things up for him. In fact the liquid had not only added a burning in his throat, but also a significant blurring to his vision. According to Black and Malfoy, 'Firewhiskey Friday' was a long standing tradition in Slytherin House which was as old as the beverage itself.

The last five days had been both strange and familiar; an interesting combination Hadrian found. The ebony haired boy had met many new, unfamiliar people yet was finding it surprisingly easy to get into the routine of attending classes and learning the layout of Hogwarts. He had not encountered Tom at all during the week, but his classmates had assured him that this was rather normal for the elusive Head Boy. He was there when absolutely needed but was otherwise incredibly busy. Hadrian was sure the boy would be ready with an answer to his request on Monday though, and only hoped his outburst at Salazar's portrait hadn't hindered him.

After what had seemed to be the longest week ever, Hadrian was more than willing to loosen up by taking part in a drinking session with his fellow sixth years. He had not spent a large amount of time with his other dorm-mates, and he was hoping to use this relaxed atmosphere to learn more about Cassius Avery and Theodore Nott. The three boys had only shared brief interactions during classes and lunch, which had been kept quite impersonal. Both boys were rather studious and would return moments before curfew each evening, only to shower and head straight to bed. Black had mentioned that both boys participated in 'Firewhiskey Friday' each week to not only socialise with their peers, but to take a well earned break from their hectic study schedule.

Hadrian swallowed the last of his drink before responding to Black, "Would you care to elaborate on that Mr Black?" he queried; his voice formal and gravelly in his best impression of Professor Entwhistle. In the last week Hadrian had become quite comfortable with Orion and Abraxas, and the three were often reprimanded by the strict professor for whispering through Charms lessons. She could not complain too much though, as all three performed rather well in the subject. The woman would often try to catch them out with demands to elaborate on their answers to ensure that they were in fact paying attention, and the boys regularly entertained each other with rather unflattering impersonations of her afterwards.

Orion snickered, pulling himself upon his bed while being mentally grateful that having the corner bed meant two potential walls to lean against. "You have already told us briefly of the reason you attended Hogwarts so late, but you have yet to clarify your origins…or your leanings."

At Hadrian's blank expression Nott decided to cut in. The thin boy had arrived almost forty minutes after the others had started drinking, and was therefore only on his second glass. His muddy brown eyes focused on Hadrian as he explained on behalf of the drunken Black heir, "What Black has so thoroughly just explained…" he sneered jokingly at Orion at this, who merely rolled his eyes and picked up his glass again, "…is that we are as yet unaware as to whether you are a Light, Dark or Neutral wizard?"

Hadrian frowned deeply, unsure as to where to start with a suitable reply. He did not know what way he leaned, and was fortunately rescued by Avery, who had noticed the boy's discomfort. Avery came from a predominantly Light family, but was undoubtedly Dark himself.

"Don't feel pressured to answer Hadrian," he assured softly, much to the irritation of his nosier housemates. Unlike the boys he shared a dorm with; Cassius had experienced persecution from his family when it had become clear he would not be following in their footsteps. Hadrian seemed more Neutral in Cassius' eyes, but one could never be sure. Despite the confidence Hadrian had already started to display in the time it had taken to gain his new friends, Cassius was perceptive enough to see that the boy was not too sure of himself. He suspected that the boy had led a rather sheltered life due to home-schooling, and had only learned his parents' view of the world. They had most likely been Light if they had been killed by Grindelwald's followers.

"Did your parents ever teach you the history of Magic, and the difference between Dark and Light?" The blond questioned seriously. Unlike Abraxas' long platinum locks, Cassius' hair was a cropped, dirty blond. His skin was tanned and he had rather alarming violet eyes set closely together in a square face. He was almost as tall as Black but significantly wider, giving an impression of aggression. That is until he spoke. His voice was always soft and soothing, encouraging the listener to bare their souls. It was a complete juxtaposition to the image portrayed by his body.

The other boys straightened up slightly, interested in Hadrian's response. The question had been a sobering one for the boys who wanted to learn more about their new classmate. They were starting to like the boy, and hoped that he shared similar ideals to them. Maybe he could eventually be included in Riddle's club if he gave the right answers. Merlin knew he had already garnered the older boy's interest, which was no easy feat.

"I can't say they ever did, no." Hadrian stated cautiously, wary of where this admission would lead.

"Hmm … It seems a history lesson is in order for our young Hadri…" Orion's sentence was abruptly cut off by an undignified hiccup. The drunken boy hastily took another gulp of his drink as his friends sniggered at his misfortune.

"As much as I disagree with Orion's execution of his statement," Abraxas stated haughtily as he lazily pulled himself upright, "I do agree with the sentiment. Some education is in order if you wish to know your place in the world." All of this was said with no allusion to the blond's inebriated state; strict Malfoy training causing him to show nothing but perfect poise at all times.

"Well that sounds ominous." The petit boy stated; one eyebrow rose comically high over a wide green eye in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Abraxas smirked and started to explain, "Magic, my dear Hadrian is much like nature. In fact, it is a part of nature. There has to be a balance maintained to keep everything running smoothly."

Hadrian nodded in understanding, hoping the tale would continue to be this easy to comprehend. He was tired and his intoxicated condition caused everything to process a little slower in his mind.

"Magic has always been an integral part of the earth. Long before there were wizards and witches there were magical creatures. Most creatures are Neutral, even now, but there are many examples of creatures steeped mainly in Dark or Light magic. The hippogriff for example is neither Dark nor Light whereas a unicorn is extremely Light; a basilisk Dark and so on. Wizards …"

"Wait!"

A thin, pale eyebrow rose at Hadrian's interruption. He was clearly not impressed with being interrupted so soon into his story judging by the growing scowl marring his normally flawless features. "Yes?" he drawled.

Hadrian barely managed to prevent flushing brightly at Abraxas' expression, "What is the difference? What makes a creature Light or Dark?"

"I was getting to that," Abraxas reprimanded, waggling a finger playfully at the brunet and proving that the alcohol had made some impact on his state of mind. "Light magic is often represented by positive emotion, defence, creation, healing and innocence. The unicorn is the embodiment of innocence, and you may never have encountered a phoenix but they have been documented to fill a person with sheer joy and hope from hearing their song. Incidentally, phoenix tears are reputed to have healing powers. People often confuse their facts regarding Light magic however. They assume that because most things innocent are Light that it means all things Light are innocent." He shook his head in frustration of the common misconception as Avery fluidly took over the story. Theodore had sat quietly through the discussion, observing the relationship between his classmates and the new boy's reactions.

"Dark magic is represented by negative emotion; it's aggressive, passionate, destructive and permanent."

"Permanent?" Hadrian queried, feeling a bit lost now.

"A lot of Dark spells and rituals have permanent results …" Cassius tapped his chin with a thick finger thoughtfully as he tried to come up with an example, "**Obliviate**, if done correctly, will destroy a person's memories. A powerful wizard can retrieve those memories through legilimency but the memories cannot be trusted. They are always damaged with parts missing forever. They will never be whole again. An injury from a Dark curse, if it doesn't kill you, can be healed but it will always leave a scar, even if it's only mental."

Hadrian frowned, not really liking the sound of Dark magic so far. He hadn't really heard anything positive about it yet. Nott had noticed the young man's expression and chose to make his own input.

"Everything that Abraxas and Cassius are telling you are facts Hadrian, but they are also only the negative examples of Dark magic. These are the thoughts most Light wizards, and even many Neutral wizards hold in regard to anything Dark. Most Light spells can be reversed. You can probably imagine that you wouldn't want a Light spell reinforcing the structure of a building or wards?"

Hadrian nodded in agreement, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they had gradually been slipping down and were close to sliding from the tip. He had noticed that none of his housemates wore glasses, and wondered if there was some magical cure for poor eyesight. He intended to look into it on his next visit to the library. He was dragged from his distracting thought as Nott continued his explanation.

"Although a Light wizard can perform spells for reinforcing wards, the spells with the most strength and resilience are Dark. A Light wizard can use these spells, but not to the effect of a Dark or even Neutral wizard. The magic flows differently and it is very hard to control a Dark spell if you're Light, or a Light spell if you're Dark. The best comparison I can think of is a right handed person trying to write neatly with their left hand, or vice versa."

"So Dark wizards are left handed, and Light are right?" The green eyed boy murmured.

"Not literally of course," Abraxas sneered, regaining control of the story which had been rudely stolen by Cassius and Theo, "But that is a good analogy I suppose," he acknowledged, tilting his head to Nott. "I suppose if we're following that analogy, we can say Neutral wizards are ambidextrous. They are capable of using both types of magic easily enough, but they will usually have a touch more strength in one kind."

"These explanations are just scratching the surface of what you need to know about Dark and Light Hadrian," Avery stated seriously, violet eyes staring into green, "There are so many spells which are Dark; spells used every day and taught in this school. **Incendio** is a Dark spell, performed easily and efficiently by Dark wizards, and this is not acknowledged! There have been so many Light wizards in power over the years that the balance is being lost. Useful, legal spells are being described as Neutral; sometimes even Light, when they are in fact Dark. Evil, illegal spells are described as Dark, regardless of their true origin. Back in the times of the founders of Hogwarts, there was a healthy respect for the strengths and weaknesses of Dark and Light. It was about two centuries ago that a Light wizard came into power with very biased views towards his own leanings. He subtly changed laws to benefit Light wizards, and when his son took his place as minister, the discrimination against Dark grew more." Avery scowled, thinking of his own persecution from his Light family.

"Who was it?" Hadrian whispered, not wanting to upset the angry boy further.

"It was my own ancestor, Alphard Avery." Cassius sighed, lying back on his bed and closing his eyes, "I come from a predominantly Light family. They … they don't take too kindly to Dark wizards."

When Avery didn't seem too inclined to continue, the black haired boy shifted his gaze to meet the silver one of Malfoy. Abraxas sighed softly at his friend's unhappiness and took a sip of Firewhiskey before addressing the newest Slytherin, "I recommend some reading if you want to catch up with your schoolmates Hadrian," he murmured softly. "There are many books in the Malfoy library I could lend to you with the _true_ history of Light and Dark, and where the balance got lost. We could live in harmony with Light wizards like we did a thousand years ago, if they would only study history and not politics. The ignorance of British wizards will eventually lead to the destruction of all we hold dear." Abraxas' expression was solemn as he glanced at his dorm mates, many of whom were trying to keep their eyes open.

Hadrian glanced at his tired friends, a quick **Tempus** showing the time to be approaching two in the morning. "Perhaps we should sleep," he suggested softly.

"Hmm … I agree." Abraxas murmured, before staring at Hadrian speculatively, "You know …" he started, "Black was right."

Hadrian had pulled the silk covers over himself as the blond had been speaking, "About what?"

"You are hard to figure out. You would have to be a fool not to have realised that we are all Dark wizards in this room. I had initially thought you could be Neutral, as you don't seem partial to Dark or Light. Today though, I saw you perform a spectacular Patronus in DADA, yet also a brilliant Bombarda. You are powerful Hadrian, yet in both types of magic. You don't favour either, nor do you seem to have weakness in a particular one."

Black snorted in his sleep as though in agreement to Malfoy's proclamation. Cassius and Theo had lay in their own beds and pulled the curtains closed; concealing them from the room's other occupants.

Malfoy's voice drifted across to Hadrian as the green eyes had started to close, "It's the strangest thing Hadrian," he whispered, silver eyes drifting shut and admitting defeat to the collaboration of the late hour and amount of alcohol consumed, "It's almost as if you are both Light and Dark."

"Yeah," the brunet whispered, finally giving in to sleep, "Strange."

* * *

"Oh Merlin … I feel like I'm dying!" Hadrian groaned moments after waking. It was a few minutes past noon and Cassius Avery was the room's only other occupant. Violet eyes crinkled in amusement as he watched the younger boy grip one hand in thick, sable hair while covering his mouth with the other.

"Feeling a little sensitive there Hadrian?" he laughed as the boy bolted to the bathroom. Sounds of retching soon drifted through to blond boy's ears. After about five minutes of listening to Hadrian vomit he took pity on the younger Slytherin.

"I am assuming that you do not drink alcohol too often Hadrian," he stated, walking into the bathroom as the toilet was being flushed. The normally bright green eyes were bloodshot and set in a grey tinged face. The boy looked set to vomit again when Cassius thrust a phial of red potion into his hand and gestured for him to take it.

"It tastes disgusting but trust me, you will thank me afterwards."

Hadrian frowned at the blond, before wincing at the stab of pain caused when he changed his expression. He made a mental note that using facial muscles caused his head to hurt more when recovering from a night of excess. Another wave of nausea roiled his stomach, leading him to hastily chug the potion in an attempt to prevent more toilet worship. "Disgusting!" he hissed, cringing at the bad egg taste.

"Does the job though," Cassius murmured knowingly, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall next to Hadrian's toilet. Hadrian pulled himself to his feet and leaned over the nearest sink, scooping water into his palm and rinsing the taste of vomit and potion from his mouth. Once done, he turned to lean against the wall by Cassius, "What was that?" he whispered.

"That was a potion to cure the effects of excessive alcohol use, or abuse I think we can call it in this situation." Cassius turned to look at the shorter boy, smiling at the changes caused by the potion. His eyes were bright green again, and skin peachy. There was almost no evidence of the boy's activities only two minutes prior, "I recommend brewing one in preparation for next Friday if you don't want to go through that every Saturday morning. Now get a shower. You smell dreadful!" He winked at the indignant boy before leaving the bathroom.

Hadrian watched the blond leave before undressing and stepping into the shower. He had every intention of heeding his friend's advice next week. He did not want to feel so awful again anytime soon. He groaned in satisfaction as the hot water beat down on his skin, which still had some left over sensitivity despite the success of the wondrous potion. He spent twenty minutes just cleaning his teeth, body and hair, while making sure he felt recovered enough to start his day before wrapping a towel around his waist and heading back into the dorm to get dressed.

"Took your time in there Jameson…." Orion's voice startled Hadrian into jumping slightly as he padded into the room. He had not expected anyone other than Cassius to be in the dorm and the other boys had obviously returned while Hadrian was relaxing in his shower, "We need to get you a significant other if you have to resort to so much time in the shower." Black leered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Hadrian blushed brightly at the Black heir's implications and hastily shuffled to his trunk to collect a change of clothing.

"Leave off Black," Avery drawled, coming to Hadrian's rescue again as Orion rolled his eyes, "We're going to get lunch as we have missed breakfast hours ago. Is your appetite back now?" he questioned the petit boy, who was pulling a green woollen jumper over his shirt.

"I am actually famished," Hadrian stated in amazement. An hour ago he couldn't imagine ever eating again. He strapped on his trainers as the other boys headed to the door, before collecting his wand and following his friends. As they passed through the common room Hadrian's gaze was briefly drawn to the tall Head Boy who was in conversation with a fellow upperclassman. Stormy green eyes focussed on Hadrian, briefly flashing crimson before turning back to his classmate. Hadrian switched his gaze back to his friends, wondering what Tom had decided about his tutoring request. The taller boy's expression had given away nothing when he had glanced at him, and Hadrian felt slightly disgruntled at being disregarded so easily. He allowed his thoughts to switch to the impending meal as his stomach quietly rumbled, and joined his classmates conversation. He could think about Riddle later.

* * *

"Have you found out anything from Malfoy yet sir? Was he involved in Harry's disappearance at all?" Hermione's face was flushed and hair bushier than normal as she interrogated the Headmaster. Harry had not returned from Hogsmead and Hermione felt terribly guilty about letting him go so easily so she could have her date with Ron. The redhead in question was glowering at the unconscious blond on the hospital bed, as though he could pull the truth from him just by glaring hard enough.

"As you can see Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy is still unconscious. Just as he has been since he was found two hours ago. We have no evidence that Harry's disappearance is in any way related to Mr Malfoy's condition."

He sighed internally at the lack of information on Harry's whereabouts. Draco Malfoy had been discovered by Minerva during her frantic final sweep of Hogsmead. Argus Filch had reported the two boys missing from the check in list he used to cross off names when student returned to school, He had quickly raised the alarms when he realised the Golden Boy was one of the missing students.

The young blond had been almost completely drained of magic when Professor McGonagall had discovered him. His normally immaculate face had been dirty and tear-stained as he lay unconscious near a scorched patch of grass; the complete vulnerability of the boy causing Albus to almost feel sorry for him. He held his sympathy in check until he knew the circumstances of his favourite student's disappearance however. Harry was desperately needed for the war effort, and Albus had become quite fond of him over the last six years. He was well aware of the rivalry between the two boys and would be a fool to think the two occurrences were unrelated. He just had to discover now whether both boys were victims of a third party, or if Malfoy had been the cause of his own condition, and Harry's missing status.

Here inlay the problem. Draco Malfoy was not expected to wake anytime soon. Madame Pomfrey had scanned him and deemed Magical depletion to be the cause of his condition, before stating that no outside source would be able to wake him. Draco had to regain his own magic and heal naturally, and he would not wake until his body was ready. It could take hours or years, Poppy had told him. This would cause a lot of problems for Albus Dumbledore, as Draco was his only potential witness to what had happened to Mr Potter and they would not be getting any answers until the Malfoy heir woke. If he woke at all.

Albus groaned as Harry's friends stalked away from the Infirmary, glad that no-one could see his distress. He was disappointed in them for not taking better care of their friend, but he couldn't lay too much blame as they were just sixteen years old and under the control of their hormones. Hopefully they would learn a lesson from today. He turned to the boy on the bed and scowled in dismay. He was not looking forward to explaining Draco's situation to Lucius Malfoy. No doubt Lucius would try to pull Draco out of school for home treatment until he regained consciousness. Dumbledore needed the boy for answers, and would have to think of a valid reason for keeping the young man in Hogwarts against his parents' wishes. Lucius Malfoy was a notoriously slippery man, who had already managed to talk his way out of Azkaban in spite of being caught red-handed as a Death Eater at battle in the Ministry of Magic.

Bright yellow robes swirled as the old man spun and headed toward the door. He had a few owls to send.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. They are very much appreciated and they keep me inspired to update as regularly as possible, as I know people are still reading and enjoying my story. So ... here is chapter 10 for everyone :)**

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"I hardly believed it possible Hadrian, but you may just be getting _worse_ at this!"

Hadrian scowled at Orion's statement as he tossed another ingredient into his spitting cauldron. He was coming to hate the idea of having Potions as his first class on a Monday morning. He had been kept awake the night before thinking about Tom's pending response to his request. The green eyed youth had barely caught a glimpse of the older boy since Saturday morning, and was getting more and more concerned that he would be allocated a different tutor than the Head Boy. He brushed a lock of sweat drenched hair from his eyes as he glanced distractedly at his fellow classmates.

Hadrian was not the only flustered student in class today. A large portion of his classmates were flushed and sweaty, constantly sweeping back frizzy hair with the backs of their hands while trying to keep up with the pace the complicated potion required. The room was unbearably hot; with thick clouds of different coloured smoke depending on the stage individual students had reached with their potions. Hadrian found himself often having to wipe his glasses to clear the fogged lenses. These combined factors caused him to feel rather offended by Black's judgement of his skills. No doubt the larger boy was frustrated keeping up with the difficult potion, but it was hardly fair judging the newer boy for struggling with the same potion.

From the corner of his eye, he saw an object sailing toward his cauldron. He felt as though a lead weight had dropped into his stomach as he immediately recognised the pink flower of Hellebore, a common ingredient in any potion kit, yet incredibly volatile if added to the wrong potion. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Hellebore had no place in his already temperamental concoction. Hadrian's hand suddenly shot out, catching the wayward ingredient moments before disaster struck. He hastily snatched his hand away from the heat and slammed the Hellebore on his desk, nicking his knuckle on the sharp blade of his knife in the process.

"Nice reflexes Hadrian," Abraxas whispered from his left as he calmly stirred his potion, "You should try out for Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team next year if you can fly too." His gaze flickered to the opposite side of the room, where Hadrian could just see the shaking silhouettes of the laughing Gryffindors through the smoke. "As the intended victim, you get to choose the punishment."

Hadrian glanced back at Malfoy questioningly, who had narrowed his silver eyes at the sight of the snickering redhead, "Septimus Weasley just attempted to sabotage your potion Hadrian. We are certainly going to get him back for his unprovoked attempt at tampering with your work. You get to choose how." All of this was said with a calm, blank face, which the younger boy found more alarming than if Abraxas had screamed his statement. Hadrian suspected that the blond had been waiting for an excuse to harm the Gryffindor, and Weasley had just unwittingly provided it.

Not that he minded the idea of revenge. He was quite looking forward to getting Weasley back for all the aggravation he had caused Hadrian in the week he had been at Hogwarts. The Gryffindors and Slytherins shared far too many classes in Hadrian's opinion, and the fiery haired boy regularly took it upon himself to snipe at the small Slytherin. Hadrian didn't know what he had done to earn the boy's ire, but he was not going to put up with it.

"So … revenge on the Weasel eh?" Orion asked as he tipped a ladleful of potion into his flask. Hadrian could just visualise the Black heir rubbing his hands together in anticipation, "I insist that you let me help." He stared intently at the bespectacled boy, awaiting his response.

"The more the merrier." Hadrian murmured, a grin steadily spreading across his face.

"Fantastic!" Orion exclaimed, keeping his voice surprisingly low while doing so. He picked up his flask and headed to Slughorn's desk, passing Nott who glanced at Hadrian and rolled his eyes in amusement. It appeared that the thin boy had managed to overhear the end of the conversation between the three Slytherins.

The smoke was beginning to clear as Hadrian's classmates were finishing their potions and transferring them into awaiting flasks. With a sigh of relief the boy added his final ingredient and started his final ten clockwise stirs which would finish the potion. Despite the volatile nature of his potion only ten minutes earlier, he had managed to get it back on track and hoped he would achieve at the very least an A grade for his work. The final stir caused the potion to turn a shade of deep indigo, proving it had been completed successfully.

Hadrian grinned, triumphantly transferring a portion to his flask before returning the ladle to the potion. As he dropped the tool into the brew, he noticed a red substance drop from his finger into his cauldron. He barely had time to register the substance as his own blood before the cauldron exploded in his face. Excruciating pain and the sounds of his classmates screaming were the last things Hadrian experienced before everything went dark, and he heard no more.

* * *

The hospital wing was dark when Hadrian cracked his eyes open, one solitary lamp lit above his head causing light to dance across his bedding. Once again, his head was throbbing in a pain he had come to associate with this particular section of the castle. He immediately decided that if he never woke in the infirmary again, it would be too soon. He rolled painfully onto his side, before yelping in shock and pulling himself upright.

"What … what are you doing here?" he asked the boy in the chair beside his bed.

"Considering that I didn't have to sit here for an hour patiently waiting for you to wake up, a little gratitude would be appreciated," Tom drawled, lip quirked slightly as he addressed the boy. "You have been unconscious since your appalling display in Potions this morning. Stirring a potion with an injured hand … honestly Hadrian! Do you have no sense? No knowledge of the subject at all?"

Hadrian almost growled at yet another assault on his potions skills, "Well I do need a tutor in Potions, Tom. You are aware of this fact, seeing how I asked _you_ to be my tutor after all! Not to mention the fact that I have no memory that I know of, making it a miracle that I know what a potion is at all!"

Tom sneered at the aggravated boy before thrusting a familiar phial into his hand.

"I hope that you at least recognise this." He snapped as Hadrian hastily downed the pain reliever. The younger boy sighed before looking at his surroundings, "Where is Madame Leblanc?"

"Asleep I suspect. I disabled the alarm ward she sets to go off when patients wake in the night. She was not here when I entered earlier and it is just past midnight if you wish to know."

Hadrian groaned as he leaned back against the headboard, disappointed at the way the day had ended, "How did you get up here so late?" he muttered.

"I am Head Boy; a position which comes with many privileges. Besides, I know this school better than most teachers here. Even without the badge I would have been able to come up here unnoticed whenever I wanted."

Hadrian grinned slightly at Tom's boast, before frowning at the older student's expression. Dark eyebrows were raised as Tom stared at him expectantly. At Hadrian's confused expression, the boy sighed and leaned toward the bed. "I have decided that you are in dire need of a tutor, and you need the best. You and I will be having lessons twice a week; Sundays and Wednesdays. Merlin knows you cannot really afford to hack up your face anymore…"

"My face?!" Hadrian gasped, "What's wrong with my face?"

"Nothing to be too concerned about. No doubt your classmates will find it dashing rather than disfiguring," Tom said, wordlessly transfiguring a handkerchief into a hand mirror to give to the injured boy.

Hadrian barely refrained from snatching the mirror from Tom's hand in his haste to see the injury. He raised it in front of his face with great trepidation, wary of what his reflection would show. He could not hold back a gasp at what he saw. A long, pink scar stretched for an inch below his right eye, skipping across the socket and travelling up to his forehead; cutting through his eyebrow on the way. He lifted a shaky hand, pushing his fringe aside to see where the scar ended. It gently curved after passing through the eyebrow, crossing over the older scar and almost reaching the centre of his forehead. Fortunately for Hadrian, the scar was relatively thin, appearing to be only a millimetre in width. His gaze was pulled from his reflection by Tom's voice.

"You got off lightly Hadrian. Your cauldron exploded in your face, near enough cleaving it in two. Madame Leblanc managed to save your eye and closed you up, but the scarring was unavoidable for the extent of the injury. You're rather lucky it isn't a lot worse."

Hadrian tiredly rubbed his face and leaned back against his pillow. He supposed he was fortunate that he had not become too attached to his appearance. It was irreversibly changed now and he would just have to get used to the new face. He was incredibly relieved that he had not lost his vision in his right eye, as the scar easily showed he had been very close to doing so. His vision was already poor enough as it was. He suddenly realised the absence of his glasses, and a glance at the bedside table showed that they were not where he would expect the matron to put them.

"Do you know what happened to my glasses?" he questioned Tom.

Tom sneered and leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed and casual, "Hopefully gone for good." At Hadrian's blank expression he elaborated, "If you are to be my student, we are going to have your eyes healed and vision perfected. The glasses just get in the way. I have watched you Hadrian." Hadrian's eyebrows rose slightly at this revelation, "You constantly adjust them, having to slide them back up your nose every time they start to edge down. They have been cracked at least twice that I know of in the week that you have been here, and they were part of the reason you nearly lost your eye today. The cauldron actually missed the eye itself, but it did manage to smash your glasses and drive a shard of the lens into your eyeball. They are a weakness and I will not tolerate them on you."

"Why not me?" Hadrian murmured, "There are other students and teachers in the school who wear glasses. If it were that easy to perfect vision, why do wizards and witches bother with them at all?"

"I never said it was an easy process…" Tom started, ignoring Hadrian's first question, "…or one readily availably to all wizards. Most Light wizards are completely unaware of it…"

"So it's a Dark spell? Or potion?" Hadrian asked, "Is it something I will be learning?" The black haired boy was looking forward to learning something not taught in the normal school curriculum.

"… I would appreciate it if you would not interrupt me Hadrian. Perhaps if you allow me to finish what I am saying, you will discover the answer without needing to ask a question." Tom reprimanded, holding back a smile at the younger boy's eagerness to learn, regardless of the stigma normally brought about with the Light and Dark labels. He had been wary of whether the boy would take to Dark magic until he found out how he had showed such potential with his spell casting. Tom had subtly questioned Hadrian's classmates about the boy's skills, discovering the fact that he showed a large amount of talent in the different fields of magic. The parseltongue ability was an extra factor he had taken into consideration in the past week. No Light wizard had ever possessed the ability. Hadrian possessed a Darkness in him which Tom could _feel. _He had felt it the moment they had touched and it called to him.

"It is a complicated potion," he said, answering Hadrian's question, "…and it is the first new one that I will be showing you." Hadrian grinned eagerly, causing Tom to roll his eyes and allow a slight smile to creep across his lips, "It has a lot of different aspects of preparing ingredients and should take three hours of our undivided attention to brew." He leaned forward, red flecked eyes locking onto green, "If you don't pick up any techniques worth remembering after Sunday, there is no hope for you."

Hadrian hastily nodded and grinned again, "So we are starting on Wednesday then?"

"Yes. It will be something fairly basic that you should already know. We have only an hour available this Wednesday night and I wish to use it to see where you are up to already."

"Okay. I look forward to it." Hadrian smiled warmly at the Head Boy, happy that he'd gotten the outcome he had hoped for; even if it was at the expense of his face. "Tom …" he started. He was curious about whether he would be interacting with the Slytherin portrait again.

"Madame Leblanc has awoken." Tom interrupted, standing abruptly, "And that is my cue to leave," he scoffed at the other boy's surprised expression, "I set my own alarm to warn me when she woke. I don't go into anything unprepared Hadrian; otherwise I would rarely succeed in my endeavours. That's something else you will learn with my tutelage, I'm sure. _**Until Wednesday, Hadrian**_." he finished with a hiss as he headed toward the infirmary doors.

"_**Goodbye Tom**_." Hadrian responded quietly, watching the boy exit as Madame Leblanc entered through her office doors. Hadrian suspected that her room was situated behind the office if she were able to reach the hospital wing so quickly.

Madame Leblanc bustled over to Hadrian, looking surprisingly alert considering that she had only awoken moments ago. She waved her wand over him, muttering a few incantations before nodding in satisfaction at the results. "You do not appear to be in any pain," she muttered in surprise. Hadrian blinked at her, keeping his expression as blank as possible. She sighed and sat next to him in Tom's vacated seat, "You have had a rather eventful day haven't you?" she said, not expecting an answer. Hadrian didn't offer one.

"You may remember your cauldron exploding in your Potions class?" she asked, expecting a response this time. At the boy's nod she continued, "I shall be blunt sweetheart. I have healed all of your injuries, which were numerous. Your face suffered the most damage, being in the direct path of the explosion, and although you will have no pain or muscle damage from the accident, there is, regrettably, a rather long scar." She hastily sought to reassure him as he managed to portray a shocked expression, "Your face is rather dashing now, I must say!" she grinned, "It adds a charming element of danger."

Hadrian's eyebrow rose in amusement, causing him to realise it wouldn't reach _quite _as high as it used to. The woman was rather adorably sweet in her attempts to keep him happy. He suspected she may have a soft spot for him. He smiled reassuringly at her, "I'm sure I will survive. I do not doubt that you did a wonderful job, and I truly appreciate the help you gave me."

"Well aren't you sweet," the matron beamed, practically radiating her relief that the boy was not so shallow as to be concerned about a scar. She could only imagine the reaction she would have got from the Malfoy heir. She didn't notice the boys smirk; as he had not only managed to avoid revealing his secret visitor, but had also portrayed an image of a cool, collected young man who was unconcerned with vanity. She had fortunately not witnessed his earlier panic at the thought of any potential mutilation, although it was a shame that Tom had. He cared a lot about the older boy's opinion. More than he did his other classmates if he were honest.

"Do you wish to see it?" Lucille questioned hesitantly, distracting him from his thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, no I should be fine thank you. I am rather tired and I could always just look at it tomorrow." Hadrian murmured, shifting down the bed and pulling the blanked over himself, "Is there anything else I am needed for, as I would quite like to sleep soon."

"Not at all honey." She smiled, gently smoothing down his covers in a motherly gesture, "You get your rest. Some natural sleep will do wonders, and it is incredibly late. I will see you in the morning." She pulled herself to her feet, "Bonne nuit Hadrian." She whispered, removing his glasses from he pocket to place on the bedside table before turning to leave. She had plenty of sleep to indulge in, before a new day of patching up schoolchildren started again.

"Goodnight Madame Pomfrey." Hadrian muttered; his eyes closed already. Madame Leblanc halted her step and turned to face the boy, "Pomfrey?" she muttered. She wondered whether the boy was dreaming already, or if the name he had uttered was another clue about his mysterious past. She didn't know anyone by the name, other than a third year by the name of Poppy. Perhaps Hadrian had met the girl already, or a member of her family maybe? She turned away from the gently snoring boy and headed to her office. She could mention it to him in the morning. The medi-witch had no intention of interrupting Hadrian's sleep now that he was genuinely resting, and not just unconscious. She spelled off the lamp over his bed, briefly wondering when it had been lit, before turning in for the night.


	11. Chapter 11

**I must continue to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. It is very much appreciated to have such positive feedback. Enjoy chapter 11 ... Chapter 12 will be up very soon :)**

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Hadrian was sat on his hospital bed munching on his toast with strawberry jam when Dumbledore strolled through the doors. The boy barely held back a sigh before addressing the Deputy Headmaster.

"Good morning Professor Dumbledore."

"Good morning Mr Jameson," Dumbledore responded amiably, smiling widely with his ever present twinkle, "How are you feeling today my boy?"

"Much better, thank you sir," the young brunet answered politely. He was already sick of the hospital wing and ready to go classes.

"That is wonderful news my dear boy!" Dumbledore enthused, before taking a seat beside his student. His expression turned sombre as he took in the large scar, "Have you spoken to Madame Leblanc already today?"

Hadrian blinked at the sudden change in his teacher's demeanour, before realising what the older man was concerned about.

"We spoke last night sir," he said, "She explained the injuries I obtained and I shall endeavour to be much more careful in Potions class in future. I am also aware of the new addition to my face and I am honestly not too concerned about it Professor."

The older man beamed at this statement, relieved that he would not need to be the one to break the news to the boy.

"That is great to hear Hadrian! So many young people are much too concerned with vanity these days. I am glad that you have your priorities in order. Your life is far more important than any mere facial disfigurements. It is an admirable thing that you are so unconcerned with your physical appearance." The auburn haired man nodded sagely at the end of the statement.

"Well I'm flattered." Hadrian stated dryly.

"It's true. Your maturity is impressive." Dumbledore replied happily, missing Hadrian's sarcastic tone, "Ah … Madame Leblanc. How is our patient today? Fit to return to class?"

Hadrian cursed mentally. He would need to drastically improve his awareness of his surroundings. The medi-witch had already reached his bedside before he had even noticed her entrance into the room.

"He's ready to go Professor!" she chirped cheerfully. "I think I should ask you before you leave Hadrian …" the witch started, turning her attention to the boy in the bed, "Do you recall knowing anyone by the name of Madame Pomfrey?"

"Madame Pomfrey?" the boy echoed.

"Yes. You called me by that name last night as you were falling asleep. I thought that she may have been a healer or nanny you knew, and you subconsciously associated me with her."

"It does seem familiar." Hadrian admitted as he racked his brain for any further information. He growled in exasperation as his mind drew a blank, "I don't have any memory of her though. I'm sorry."

"Oh don't apologise sweetheart. Memory retrieval can be a slow process. This is good news though! We already have two potential leads to discovering your identity!" The woman was gently bouncing on her heels in an attempt to restrain her delight. Hadrian couldn't help being sucked into the enthusiasm she radiated.

"What are they?" he asked quickly, placing his plate of toast on the bedside table and staring at the woman avidly. Dumbledore also looked on in mild curiosity.

"Well sweetie, not only do we have a name we can track down, but we have also discovered that you may be storing your memories on a very subconscious level. Dreams may start giving you information you can make a note of. If so we will be even closer to piecing together the puzzle! This is looking very hopeful!"

The woman's usually faint French accent was slightly emphasised during her passionate speech. Hadrian smiled softly at her; more from fondness for the woman than any joy at her comment. He honestly felt a little let down at the poor strength of Leblanc's lead. Her willingness to help was truly appreciated, but he wished she hadn't got his hopes up for such a vague idea. She had given the impression that they were already onto something relevant. Hopefully this Pomfrey woman would lead them somewhere productive.

Your clothes are at the foot of your bed." Madame Leblanc announced, slightly put out at Hadrian's reaction to her small breakthrough. There was very little that the skilled medi-witch was unable to diagnose and cure. She was secretly distressed at her lack of success in helping the young man with his ailment so far.

Dumbledore had listened to Leblanc's announcement while feeling great frustration with the situation. The boy was potentially showing evidence of concealed memories, and the Headmaster had banned legilimency on him. Perhaps if he subtly suggested the option of an alternative to waiting for dreams, the boy would approach a faculty member and request that legilimency be used to discover his past.

"The dream idea is a plausible one Hadrian." he murmured when the medi-witch had bustled back to her office. "I recommend that you also make a note of any seemingly random words or thoughts that spring to mind. Even if they make little sense to you, they may be very significant to someone else. We may even find someone who knows you."

Hadrian smiled again, although it was uncomfortably this time. He had only been at Hogwarts for little over a week, but the castle already felt like home. He was reluctant to leave the place he had become so fond of any time soon.

"There are other methods you could even consider to check your subconscious. It is something you would have to give permission for as it involves having a skilled individual help you look."

"Look where?" Hadrian saw the Professors eyes gleam ever so slightly.

"In your mind…"

"No thank you." Hadrian hastily interrupted. He did not like the idea of someone searching through his mind, even with his permission, "I think that if the Veritaserum had no results, then mind reading will not be much of an improvement. I'm not too comfortable with the idea sir but thank you for your suggestion. It sounds much too invasive for my liking, especially if someone will have to dig down to my subconscious." Hadrian shuddered slightly before continuing, "I don't think I know anyone well enough to trust them with my mind."

"Not even if it means restoring your memory? Your true self?"

Hadrian leaned back ever so slightly from the professor, who had edged closer to him during their conversation in his eagerness to make his point.

"I will take Madame Leblanc's advice for now sir and try everything the natural way. The mind-reading thing can be a last case scenario … thing." Hadrian almost groaned at his sudden inability to articulate. "Besides … I like who I am now. If I never discover my past it will not be the end of the world."

The older man sat back, visibly disappointed. "That is of course your choice my boy. I will be happy to help you if you change your mind at all. In any case, I am glad that you are feeling better. You have permission to leave the hospital wing, and classes are due to start in an hour. You have time to shower and change before your first class." Dumbledore stood and looked down at the Slytherin, "I will see you in Transfiguration class, Mr Jameson."

Hadrian nodded and watched as the man turned and left the infirmary, not looking back at the boy once.

* * *

"You need to grind your beetle shells harder Hadrian. It needs to be a fine powder, and this is like sand."

Hadrian nodded hastily and ground his pestle more vigorously. Tom had him making the Inhibitus potion, which was regularly covered at the start of sixth year. It seemed familiar to Hadrian but he could not honestly know where to start if asked to make it with no instructions. When consumed, the potion would repress the emotions of the drinker for six hours. It was incredibly useful when one needed to keep a clear mind, unimpeded by emotional influences; positive or negative. Tom was supervising him and correcting any potential mistakes. Hadrian was immensely glad that he had chosen such a good potions student for a tutor.

"No Hadrian! Do not just dump the powder into your cauldron like some uncouth Gryffindor ... Stir the potion gently as you are adding the ingredient, counting your stirs all the while. Treat the potion as delicately as you would a wild animal. You know more then most that an ill treated potion can be as dangerous as any insulted hippogriff."

"I will be slower in future." Hadrian murmured as he followed Tom's instructions.

"Not slower Hadrian. I swear, it's almost like you're deliberately misinterpreting what I am saying! There are many potions which require haste to be brewed successfully. Speed is not the issue. It is your finesse, or lack of, which you need to improve. It is something we will work on in our sessions."

Hadrian marvelled at Tom's ability to reprimand him while keeping his voice perfectly level and sounding quite calm. Somehow the younger boy managed to not take offence to Tom's criticism; not like the way he would when his classmates brought up his potions skills. Tom had so far been patient and incredibly helpful; pointing out where Hadrian was going wrong and explaining how to prevent such mistakes in future. The Head Boy would make a good teacher if he chose it as a profession.

A sharp tug on his hair pulled Hadrian's thoughts back to reality, and green eyes widened in incredulity, "Did you just pull my hair?"

"If you had been paying attention to what I had been saying instead of drifting of into Hadrian's World, you would have heard me instruct you to tie your hair back before the next step. Concentration is needed for the next stage as the pace will increase soon. You may not have noticed but you often need to sweep your hair back behind your ears, and that is a distraction you can do without. I expect you to have your hair tied back every time you approach a cauldron with a mind to brew."

Tom had paced around to the opposite side of the workbench, only the steaming cauldron between the two boys. They were working in a small room which had been provided by the castle on Tom's request to the headmaster. He had explained his intention to tutor the new boy and the need for a room to brew in which would be available should they use a free period during the week. Rather than direct them to a spare classroom, the Headmaster had just had the castle add another door to Tom's room which led to a lab approximately two thirds the size of the bedroom. He did so enjoy the privileges gained by having the Headmaster so fond of him.

"So did you pull my hair to make your point?" The boy was relentless when he wanted an answer. No subtlety at all. Tom allowed the sigh he had so far withheld. Once again the boy's mind was on conversation rather than his potion.

"I charmed a tie into your hair. You probably did not notice that it is out of your face, what with all of the blathering. You should be focussed more on your potion than your surroundings. We are approaching a crucial step in thirty seconds, and I have not seen you even glance at the clock!"

Hadrian was impressed by Tom's time-keeping, even while maintaining a conversation and monitoring Hadrian's potion status. He also felt a little sheepish at being reprimanded so soon after his first one. On Tom's instruction, he added his lavender stems and continued to stir.

Tom moved around to Hadrian's left to place the next ingredient by his hand, "You have only two more stirs before adding this. It should be done slowly, again stirring all the while. What is the next step?"

Wide green eyes blinked before the answer came, "I have to stir ten times clockwise while adding the Doxy venom, followed by three anti-clockwise stirs?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"An answer?"

"It will have to do for now I suppose." Tom sighed; taking a seat on the empty stool opposite the cauldron and watching Hadrian add the Doxy venom with his dropper. After the final anti-clockwise stir Hadrian gladly removed the stirring rod and lay in on the table. Tom stared at the rod with a raised eyebrow and the younger boy's satisfied expression was wiped away as he realised his error. Hastily spelling the rod clean he looked up at Tom.

"How did I do?"

Tom paused to collect his thoughts before answering. "Well firstly, I think it is best that you set a timer so that you know when five minutes has passed and we can remove the heat." Once Hadrian had done this, he continued, "You treat potions like you are making a stew. You will need to start taking care while preparing and adding ingredients. It is not guesswork and estimates. A potion is precise and often fragile. I will be teaching you how to treat a potion with the respect it deserves. The potions we learn today took years of hard work by masters in the craft to be invented. They deserve your full attention, even if you do not enjoy the subject."

"I understand." Hadrian said, staring at the gently simmering liquid. He had not realised how little care he had shown for the craft.

"Secondly," Tom said, drawing Hadrian's eyes to his own, "You need to pay more attention to your potion than your surroundings. Gossiping while brewing can cause vital steps to be missed, creating poor results. That goes for daydreaming too."

Hadrian flushed at this. Everything was so new and sometimes overwhelming that he found himself unable to avoid being lost in thought fairly regularly. He had to admit he was becoming a bit of a hazard to himself and others. Only yesterday he had knocked over poor Minerva McGonagall; a fourth year Gryffindor who had the misfortune of being in his way as he had strolled distractedly down the moving staircases. Only his fast reflexes had saved the Scottish girl from injury as he had barely managed to grab her arm in time. She had stalked up the stairs when she had regained her calm, glaring at the boy as she passed.

"There you go again!" Tom snapped, realising that Hadrian's mind had wandered once more.

Hadrian jumped, "I'm sorry. I really will try to improve. There is just a lot to take in."

"Well you would do a much better job if you paid attention!" Tom was scowling at the boy now; unimpressed that he was not keeping the amnesiac's full attention. He was determined that he would be the boy's highest priority soon enough, just like he was for his followers.

"It is time to remove the potion from the heat and transfer it to your flask. You have two points to work on from this lesson. What are they?"

Hadrian ladled the potion into his flask as he answered, "I need to prioritise; pay more attention to my potion than my classmates' conversations and not daydream. I also need to treat the potion and ingredients with more care and finesse." He recited dutifully.

"Good. Follow me." Tom ordered, turning and heading to the door to his room.

Hadrian followed the boy into the bedroom, noticing the new additions that he had missed when he first walked through the room before his lesson. Two green leather armchairs were facing each other close to the head of the bed, directly opposite the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. A mahogany table with snake engravings was situated between the two seats, complete with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. Hadrian raised his eyebrow as Tom gestured to one of the seats.

"We have done our work for the day Hadrian," the older boy explained, "It is time that we relax and get to know each other a bit better. If I am to be your tutor it is probably best that we are comfortable with one another."

Hadrian took a seat and took the glass Tom was now offering to him. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck as he realised he was being stared at. Turning slightly to his right, he looked at the portrait whose eyes were boring into his own.

"_**He is looking at you now Master …"**_ a quiet voice whispered. Hadrian gaped as he realised it was the snake.

"_**You can talk to people?"**_ he gasped, his gaze flickering from the snake to the man holding her, "Your snake can talk?"

Tom and Salazar both chuckled briefly, before stopping to stare at Hadrian incredulously when they realised that he was serious. Salazar chose to answer, _**"No, Mr Jameson. Xeno cannot normally speak to people. It is you who can speak to snakes. You are speaking Parseltongue … snake language."**_

Hadrian looked at the beautiful snake, assuming her to be Xeno, "I didn't realise that wizards could speak to animals in their own tongue."

Salazar shook his head, "It is a very rare gift Hadrian. One which has only been known in my own bloodline so far … on these isles at least. Tom and I have speculated that you could possibly be a descendant of mine. I had more than one child, and though I had previously believed that Tom was the last heir, there may well be the chance that one of my grandchildren produced a bastard child before they perished. One who carried on the bloodline without anybody's knowledge"

The scarred boy was astounded by the information he had been given. He glanced at Tom who had leaned back in his armchair and was gazing coolly at him, before taking a large gulp of his brandy.

"You think that you could be a … a distant cousin of mine?" Hadrian questioned the other boy softly.

"It is a possibility." Tom admitted. He and Salazar had discussed the idea in depth and decided that there was a high chance that the two boys were related. The physical similarities and Parseltongue ability helped their theory greatly, not to mention the strange feeling between the two whenever they came into contact. Every family member Tom had met so far had sorely disappointed him, and he was hoping that if Hadrian did turn out to be kin, then Tom would have someone he would not be ashamed of. Someone he could nurture into a stronger wizard much like himself.

"Is this why I was unable to keep the truth about my memory loss from you?" Hadrian asked suddenly.

Tom was surprised that the boy had noticed. Most people didn't realise that they were acting out of character when they answered his questions. They just assumed he had intimidated or charmed the answers from them naturally. He supposed it was best to be forthright with the boy. He hoped to spend a lot more time with him, and if the lessons did develop into general magic as he intended, he would likely teach Hadrian the same charms … if the boy mastered wandless magic of course.

"Your honesty had little to do with any possible kinship between us." Tom admitted. "I used a set of mind influencing spells on you silently when I was asking my questions."

"You used compulsions on me?" Hadrian hissed, sitting up straight in his outrage.

"More than once. I certainly would not use it on a person I respect."

Hadrian glared.

Tom continued smoothly to placate the indignant boy, "I had just met you Hadrian, and you had already made me admittedly curious. You came from nowhere in the presence of a man I loathe above all others, and you created a completely unfamiliar feeling inside me upon initial contact. I wanted more information and if you must know, I did not respect you. I did not know you, so how could I? I have no intention of using it again. It would not be successful anyway now that you are aware of such charms."

Hadrian took another sip of his drink, frowning deeply as he thought about Tom's response. He supposed that the older Slytherin could have just continued to use the charms on him without his knowledge. He had admitted what he had done without actually needing to, which worked in his favour in Hadrian's eyes. The boy sighed and glanced at the portrait again who had been listening to the conversation.

"So … Xeno is an interesting name." He said, hoping to change to a lighter subject and interact with his potential ancestor at the same time, "How did you come up with it?"

Salazar snorted, "It was hardly anything wonderfully creative. Snakes do not normally have names as so few people can speak to them. I could not just keep calling her snake so I checked her breed. She is a Xenopeltis Hainanensis. I simply abbreviated the name."

"**It is an interesting name."** Hadrian hissed, addressing the snake this time, _**"It suits you well. And I must say that you are an incredibly attractive snake! Your scales are the shiniest I have ever seen in a serpent … they look so polished!"**_

Xeno squirmed in obvious delight, _**"Thank you Young Speaker. Such scales are rare. My nest mates and I are one of the few breeds with such beauty."**_ She replied proudly.

Tom shared an amused glance with Salazar, "Hadrian the Snake Charmer," he chuckled, "We shall have to get you one of your own soon. Snakes do so love being flattered, and you seem to have a silver tongue with Xeno. You can practice on your new familiar to help with your people skills. A snake will be sure to bite if you offend them and so should be great at teaching you to put thought into what you are going to say before you speak."

"Are you implying that I speak mindlessly?" Hadrian gasped in mock outrage, "Just for that comment I think that you should buy me this snake you speak of." He said with a cheeky smile.

Tom smirked; glad to see that the boy was coming out of his shell more. He suspected that the glass of brandy had lowered the smaller boy's inhibitions slightly, but there was also a chance that the possible familial relationship had enamoured the boy toward him more so than before. Tom was honestly glad. He had never had such a relationship with anyone. No one else felt comfortable enough with him to relax and joke with him in such a manner. The young man did enjoy the reverence many held toward him but it was nice to have something so different in this young boy. A boy who didn't know of his intimidating aura every other Slytherin had experienced in his years at Hogwarts. It was … refreshing.

"I shall be sure to apparate to Diagon Alley at the next opportune moment to purchase such a gift." He drawled.

Hadrian blinked, unaware of whether the boy was being serious or not. He yawned tiredly before draining his glass and placing it on the table.

"I should go. Tomorrow is another school day." He sighed, pulling himself to his feet, "Thank you for the tutoring. You have given me a lot to think about … a lot more than I expected if I am honest." Hadrian knew he would not be able to get the conversation with Tom and Salazar from his mind for a long time. The night had been full of revelations, and he now had hope of a family. A potential past had been unearthed with no need for nosy old men trawling through his deepest thoughts. He was feeling quite elated despite his tiredness.

"You make a good point," Tom agreed, realising the lateness of the hour. He led Hadrian to the door, opening it for the younger boy. "Goodnight Hadrian. I will see you on Sunday afternoon, if not before. We will have those glasses gone soon."

Hadrian grinned, "I'm looking forward to it." He stepped through the door way before turning back. "Goodnight Tom," he nodded toward the portrait, "Goodnight Salazar, _**Goodnight Xeno.**_"

A gasp was heard from the passing Abraxas Malfoy, before the blond clamped his lips shut at Tom's pointed look. No-one would find out about Hadrian's ability before Tom wanted them to. Even then, it would only be the people he chose who would know. Tom motioned for Abraxas to continue on his way, before grasping Hadrian's arm and pulling him close.

"Be sure not to mention what we discussed in here tonight." He whispered into the ear nearly pressed against his mouth.

"I wasn't planning to." Hadrian replied, frowning slightly.

"I say this for your own good. Although many Slytherins are aware of my gift and covet it, it is not something I have shared with the rest of the school. Light wizards generally believe Parseltongue to be a sign of an evil wizard. They may well show even more prejudice toward you."

"Thank you for warning me." Hadrian replied sincerely. The last thing he needed was more aggravation and insults when he was already trying to catch up with the coursework for his missed month. He smiled once more before heading to his dorm, missing Abraxas' speculative expression as he climbed into his bed and removed his glasses. He was looking forward to Sunday already.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**As a little celebration of already exceeding 90 reviews I have chapter 12 ready to share with everyone. Hope you all enjoy and continue to review … :)**

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Sunday 31st October 1944 was a surprisingly warm, clear day. Hadrian had expected Halloween to be as cold and wet as the previous fortnight he had spent at Hogwarts, and so took the opportunity to drag his classmates to the lake to enjoy the sunshine. There was no telling when the sun would be out again this late in the year. At Hadrian's insistence, all of his dorm-mates were sat with him on the small dock and enjoying snacks they had taken from the kitchens. He had even managed to persuade Theo and Cassius to leave the library.

"So did you manage to talk sense into Cedrella?" Nott asked Orion. The large boy had been scowling all week about Weasley's continued innuendos. The strange thing Hadrian found was that when Septimus thought that no-one was watching, he was really quite caring towards the girl. Hadrian had spotted them hugging in an alcove on Thursday night when he was returning late from the library. He had come to suspect that the redhead's lewd comments were aimed to rile up Orion, rather than genuinely insult his girlfriend.

"No. Silly girl is looking to be burnt off the family tree if she decides to keep consorting with that blood-traitor! Father has already threatened it as she is showing herself to be a Light witch … not even Neutral."

Hadrian couldn't help interrupting, "I thought that you believed that Light and Dark could work together?"

Orion nodded at the boy's statement, understanding how his words could have sounded hypocritical to someone who had never met Cedrella. "My sister believes the prejudices of Light wizards. Our family has always been Dark, and we assumed at first that Cedrella was indeed a Dark or Neutral witch who had close Light friends. As we have told you before, we are capable of Light magic, just not to the degree of Light wizards and witches. Over the years though she used very little Dark magic and eventually stopped using it completely. During the summer she had the nerve to call it evil in an argument with my father."

Hadrian winced, imagining Arcturus Black's response to that declaration. Orion had told Hadrian about his father's tyrannical behaviour when his beliefs were questioned. The man often spoiled his children with riches, but punished harshly if they took his gifts for granted. Orion smiled grimly in remembrance of Lord Black's punishment of his rebellious daughter.

"So the issue is more due to Cedrella being prejudice against Dark wizards, rather than her being potentially Light?" Hadrian said.

"No. The issue is about her threatening to marry the filthy Weasel when she finishes school. It would break my mother's heart if she betrayed the family any further. The boy spews such filth about her all the time too. His hot-headedness causes him to not even care about dishonouring her name so badly. A pure blooded wizard should know better than to speak of a lady in such derogatory terms. I can promise that father will cut her off from the Black vaults if she follows through with her threat. Maybe the risk of living in squalor will knock some sense into the girl."

Hadrian frowned, taking a bite of his sandwich as the boys continued to talk. He agreed with the comments regarding Weasley's big mouth, but he found it a shame that the girl could be disowned by her family for having poor taste in men. He was actually rather surprised that Arcturus had not already arranged a marriage for her, as he had done with Orion. He asked Orion the reason for this.

"It is more important that the heir has a suitable marriage. I am the one set to inherit the Lordship of the family, so I must take a wife with similar ideals to myself. There must be someone to support me in my choices and not make waves at home. Walburga is a suitable choice for me. She is as Dark as a person can get and absolutely adores my father. She holds great respect for our heritage."

Walburga Black was Orion's older cousin. She had apparently left Hogwarts three years prior, and would marry Orion when he finished his own education. Hadrian tried not to judge the fact that many purebloods chose to marry within the family rather than risk tainting their blood. Apparently nearly every pureblood was related in some way or another from centuries of marrying each other. Hadrian's attention was drawn to the vision of bright blue robes with flashing yellow stars passing the other side of the lake. Avery followed his gaze and scoffed before turning back to his friends.

"That man is such a disappointment," the blond murmured, violet eyes flashing in dislike. The others glanced at Professor Dumbledore who was heading into the castle before nodding in agreement. Hadrian frowned in confusion at the statement. He had heard exclamations of dislike toward the man, but he had not heard expressions of disappointment. He wondered how the bespectacled man had let down his friends.

"What has he done to be disappointing?" he asked Cassius.

Cassius sighed and shared a glance with the other Slytherins before violet eyes locked onto green, "Albus Dumbledore has always been a Light Wizard, and a powerful one at that. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't always so prejudice against Dark wizards. There was a time when he cared about the value of Dark magic as much as Light."

Hadrian was honestly stunned at this revelation. He wondered what could have happened to change the man's opinions so drastically. Theodore caught the surprised expression and started to explain.

"Albus Dumbledore is a powerful man, with his fingers in many pies. I can only imagine that his power will grow as he gains more loyal followers…"

"Dumbledore has followers?"

"Yes Hadrian, try to hold your questions for a few minutes okay?" Theodore chastised. Hadrian was quickly learning that Slytherins really did not like to be interrupted, "I know that you are thinking of followers of Dark magic like those of Lord Grindelwald, but Light followers operate differently to Dark. Light is in power, so naturally Light followers of powerful wizards such as Dumbledore do not need to band together and rebel against a government which already supports their needs." Hadrian nodded in understanding as Theo continued with his original point.

"Our Deputy Headmaster holds some power in the ministry, despite not being a member at present. He has managed to keep his dark past from the papers due to the influence he holds with the Light leaders he has on his side. Albus Dumbledore holds enough power to be a Light Lord. It is his responsibility to help bring back the balance as not many are gifted with such power. Our fathers have all told us the story of how it was a dream of his to work with his last partner, a Dark wizard, to bring balance back to our world."

Theodore's voice was gaining a little volume in his passion now, "Imagine the possibilities of a Light Lord and Dark Lord working together … the good that could be brought with such large influences in both sides of magic working together and destroying prejudices!"

Hadrian gaped at the implications, "Dark Lord? . . . Do you mean to say that Dumbledore and Lord Grindelwald were once together?"

Theo nodded, taking a bite of his apple and gesturing to Cassius to resume the story. Cassius placed his sandwich on the blanket and shifted to a more comfortable position, "They were a couple back when they were our age," he explained, "They were incredibly ambitious and were not afraid to make sacrifices for 'The Greater Good'," Cassius said, lowering his voice as a group of Hufflepuffs walked by, casting suspicious glances at them, "It all went downhill though when an argument between them got too heated and led to a duel of sorts."

"Hadrian was fascinated now. He couldn't imagine Dumbledore ever holding a relationship with a Dark wizard. The veiled dislike he held for the Slytherins, most of whom had Dark heritages, had ingrained an image of a narrow minded old man in his mind so far. "What happened?" he whispered.

"There was an accident during their skirmish, and Dumbledore's younger sister, Ariana, was killed. He was solely responsible for her wellbeing and backed away from any directly powerful roles in society ever since then. Grindelwald continued in his bid for power and change, as we are all aware, and Dumbledore eventually took a position as a teacher here." Cassius glanced at the castle before turning back to the scarred boy, "He is subtle in revealing his power now. He believes that power corrupts, and regrettably believes that Lord Grindelwald was a bad influence on him. He is hesitant to accept all of the blame for his young sister's death, despite what his younger brother may say to the contrary. When he turned his back on his lover, he turned his back on Dark magic."

"Wow." Hadrian gasped inelegantly, causing the other Slytherins to snicker. "How do you know all of this is Dumbledore has kept it secret from the general public?"

"It wasn't always secret." Abraxas answered this time, "Our parents heard the story when they were younger and were there to see the changes in the man. They all told us the stories as we were growing so that we know of the history behind the benign smile and twinkling eyes."

"You never know," Orion cut in, "He may improve with age. He could remember why he agreed with Dark wizards originally and return to his open mindedness of his youth. Or he could go the other way and take an active role as another Light leader. He has a role to play with the power he has. We just don't know what it is for sure yet."

Abraxas nodded in agreement as Theodore spoke again, "I personally don't think Dumbledore will assist the Dark until this war is over. There are rumours that he is prophesised to be a deciding factor in Lord Grindelwald's ultimate success or failure. We can only hope things will come to a head soon, as the war is getting out of hand now."

The younger boy had been awed by the entire conversation. He could only imagine Tom's thoughts on the subject. At the thought of Tom he gasped and leapt to his feet, "What time is it?" he asked the group. The others were startled by his sudden panic. Cassius cast a quick **Tempus **before informing the boy that it was ten minutes until one o' clock.

"I have a lesson with Tom in ten minutes," Hadrian hastily explained, gathering his cloak and wand. He started to help clear up the food hurriedly when Theo stopped him.

"We can take this Hadrian. It's best that you head straight to the castle. Tom doesn't really like to be kept waiting … especially if he is giving up his own time to help you." The others nodded seriously, causing the dark haired boy to hesitate in wonder. What had caused the others to hold such awe and respect for their schoolmate? Hadrian admired the boy but he knew it was rare for one person to have so many revere him so. At the pointed gazes from his classmates, he turned and hurried back to the castle.

* * *

Hadrian had stripped of his robe and was sweating through his shirt as he watched Tom make the potion to correct his eyesight. It was an incredibly complicated potion which had involved a few incantations from Tom to reach its full potential. It was the Dark influence which made the potion's results permanent according to Tom. Most wizards used a spell each morning to improve their eyesight, but it only had a twelve hour limit meaning it was often simpler to just wear glasses.

Tom was also sweating as he added his next ingredient. He had been working for nearly three hours, narrating the whole way to educate Hadrian in the techniques and ingredients being used. The younger boy could only hope that he would be as skilled as his tutor by the time he left Hogwarts. The boy was quick and efficient, keeping a level head even in the immense heat and smoke the potion was producing.

"And we're done," Tom suddenly announced, pulling the glass stirring rod from the potion and spelling it clean. He immediately lowered the heat and spelled the smoke from the room.

"I would normally recommend a shower considering the state of us, but you only have five minutes before you have to drink the potion." Hadrian gasped suddenly as Tom cast a cleaning charm on him and his clothes, before turning the wand on himself to use the same spell.

"Once you have consumed the potion you will need to lie down with a blindfold to stop any light reaching your eyes."

"Why do I need to lie down?" Hadrian wondered.

"You will only have about ten minutes after drinking the potion before you fall asleep." Tom explained, "There is an element to the potion which causes drowsiness. You will be sleeping in my room for the two hours it takes for the potion to work so that I can supervise you. We should be done in time for the Halloween feast."

The short brunet watched as Riddle prepared his flask and gestured to the doorway to the bedroom, "Time to see those eyes of yours properly." Tom grinned as he walked across the bedroom, taking a seat on one of the green leather armchairs. The chair, Hadrian had notice, had been relocated to the pillow end of the bed, actually touching the bedpost as it was now so close. The other chair was near the desk under the portrait now.

Hadrian greeted Salazar and Xeno, before sitting on the bed at the Head Boy's instruction.

Tom looked down at the boy, before handing him the flask, "No more looking like a muggle now Hadrian," he murmured.

Hadrian hesitated, unable the stop himself uttering the question he had wanted to ask Tom for a while now, "Why do you hate muggles so much Tom?"

Grey-green eyes darkened, emphasising the red flecks as Tom considered his answer. Finally, he responded, "I was raised in a muggle orphanage," he stated, much to Hadrian's surprise. The boy carried himself like the other Slytherin purebloods.

"It was a very unpleasant place to grow up, and the muggle children and adults alike believed that I was a freak due to my abilities." The younger boy did not know why, but Tom's childhood seemed very familiar to him.

"I had never held much faith in muggles," he continued, "Even when I did not know what muggles were, I had a general loathing for humanity. The matrons called me evil; said I was born of the devil. I found it ironic that they said that after seeing the way they treated one another during the summer after my third year."

"What do you mean?" Hadrian whispered, wondering what had happened between the muggles. Tom smiled grimly.

"It is not just the wizards at war Hadrian." the older boy explained, "The muggles are in the middle of a world wide war. The second of the century. When Professor Dumbledore sent me back to my London orphanage in 1941, I spent the whole summer listening to muggles in flying machines dropping bombs all over the city. Nearly every night buildings were being destroyed and civilians killed. Every morning the matrons would drag us out to help the injured and clean the mess left behind. I had to wonder every night whether the building I was stuck in would be the one to come down."

"Oh Merlin," Hadrian murmured, stunned that the boy had been sent to a warzone for the holidays. Did wizards not pay attention to muggle affairs at all?

"Five minutes have passed now Hadrian. Take your potion."

Hadrian started and chugged back the potion before laying back, feeling Tom drape the blindfold across his eyes, "Why do many other wizards dislike muggles?" he muttered tiredly, "those who haven't experienced them personally," he elaborated.

"I will answer that," the cultured voice of Salazar Slytherin piped up. Hadrian heard the boy next to him shuffle in the chair, likely into a more comfortable position.

"From the time of Merlin, the Wizarding world has been kept separate from the muggle world," Salazar started.

"I thought that Merlin was famous amongst muggles too." Hadrian whispered tiredly, thinking of tales of the muggle King Arthur.

Salazar hummed in agreement, "He was indeed. Muggles were aware of only one or two wizards at the time. They were unaware that it was an entire society. They believed that the few magic wielders, such as Merlin himself, were blessed by their Lord to help their society. Merlin famously served the king of England at the time, assisting him in his endeavours. It was when my own parents were younger that many wizards and witches with muggle friends grouped together to appeal against the laws about keeping our world secret. Their love for their friends led them to believe that their friends would be understanding, and not fear or covet the power we wield." Salazar sighed, "At the time of my birth, the world was in chaos. The muggles told their friends, who then told more friends and so on. They started to fear our magic and say that we were evil; that our power came from the devil. Their fear mongering led to witch hunts."

The blindfolded boy nodded, "We were taught about those in History of Magic. There were defences against the burning though …"

"Your history lessons tell you of witches and wizards who performed flame repelling charms and were simply tickled when burned at the stake." Salazar interrupted harshly, "You were probably told funny tales of Wendelin the Weird who often allowed herself to be captured. The books have been edited to protect the muggles. They do not mention the children caught with no ability to defend themselves. Our young were tortured and burned to death through muggle prejudice! They even burned their own friends and children when we learned to hide our gift. They just guessed! Guessed who had magic and burned them indiscriminately!"

Hadrian swallowed uncomfortably, feeling nauseated at the image that had entered his mind of screaming children burning at the stake.

"Gradually, the muggles started being obliviated. Nearly every muggle who had legitimately encountered a magical person had their mind wiped of it. The hope was that they would eventually treat us like fairytales again. When I helped to found Hogwarts, the castle was built to keep wizards in, and muggles out. As you know, it is not even visible to a muggle's eye."

"What actually happened to cause the break between yourself and the other founders?" Hadrian had heard the tales of Salazar only wanting purebloods to attend Hogwarts, and wondered if there was any truth in them.

"The other founders insisted on allowing the muggleborns to attend the school. They had all lived relatively sheltered lives in their large pureblood homes, away from the muggles. They believed that the stories of muggle treatment of wizards was over exaggerated, even Rowena who was normally so level headed. They had heard the sugar coated tales of wizards getting away unharmed and silly muggles burning each other. These were tales spread by the leaders of our time to cover their colossal mistake of allowing the muggles to be told." The founder sneered.

Salazar sighed in memory of his broken friendships, "The other founders believed that any person with magic should have the opportunity to attend our institution. I had personally witnessed the mobs raiding homes looking for more vulnerable wizards and witches to kill. I was willing to negotiate. I had originally wanted only purebloods to attend, but I eventually suggested that any muggleborns could attend Hogwarts if they and their parents were bound by magical oaths to never tell another muggle of magic. They did not agree to bind a magic wielders tongue as they thought they had as much right as any pureblood to make their own choices. They did not acknowledge that a muggleborn would want to share their lives with friends and extended family. I could not agree with the freedom they were being allowed in my school, so I left." Salazar sounded sad by the end of the story, and Hadrian could hear Xeno comforting him. He suddenly recalled another story he had heard from the Gryffindors.

"What about the stories of the monster you left behind?" he quietly asked.

Salazar growled, "Lasandra was no monster! She was my familiar; a basilisk I had hand reared from an egg. She was left to protect the school from any with muggle blood should the battle ever come within the castle walls. The wizards who chose to attend with mudbloods did so at their own risk, but my own heir would be protected if they ever attended. They alone would have the ability to access and control her if they felt the need to protect themselves from the prejudice."

Hadrian was amazed at the idea of a basilisk in a school. He idly wondered if he would be able to control it before yawning tiredly. The potion was taking effect.

"Has anybody ever user her?"

He suddenly felt Tom's hand land on his shoulder, "That is a story for another time Hadrian." Tom whispered, "You have to sleep now to allow the potion to work. I can see that you're tired which means that the potion is taking effect. Just relax and Salazar and I will take care of you."

Hadrian could sense that Tom was hiding something, but his exhaustion was fast fogging his mind. He could wait until Tom was more comfortable to share the story. He closed his eyes beneath the blindfold, glad that the potion prevented dreams in a bid reduce rapid eye movement during sleep. He did not want dreams of little witches and wizards burning.

"See you in two hours," he heard Tom murmur before he drifted into sleep.

* * *

It was a delighted sixth year who trotted out of Tom Riddle's room two hours later. He had awoken to perfect vision and thanked Tom profusely until his stomach had growled rather loudly. Tom was walking beside him, a rare smile on his face as he watched the exuberant boy almost dancing down the corridor.

"So how is this feast different from any other meal here?" Hadrian asked, his excitement causing him to sound breathless as he spoke.

"Not too much to be honest," Tom replied, "The food will differ slightly, including traditional Halloween treats, and the floating candles are usually replaced with pumpkins and bats. It is for the younger students really."

"Oh," the boy grinned and looked up at Tom, "I don't care. I will see every pumpkin perfectly now so I will be happy!"

Tom chuckled softly and turned Hadrian back in the direction of the Great Hall. "I'm sure you will," he said, humouring the younger boy. He caught a glimpse of Albus Dumbledore, who had stopped on his descent of a nearby staircase to scowl at the two boys nearing the Great Hall doors. Hadrian had not noticed and was already getting a grip of the handle as Tom quickly flashed a triumphant expression at the Professor.

He could see that the professor had realised the truth: Hadrian Jameson was well and truly on the way to belonging to one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He always had been a possessive person.


	13. Chapter 13

**Wow… I did not expect to take so long to update this chapter. Between a chaotic month in the real world and several re-writes it has been difficult to get a result I was happy with. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I always appreciate everyone's feedback. Thank you also to Tonks-is-cool for the information regarding the witch trials, not to mention the lovely long feedback for each review. Hope you all enjoy this instalment and continue to review. I'm still new at this and appreciate any constructive feedback :)**

* * *

Hadrian had awoken on the 4th of December absolutely exhausted. November had sailed by in a haze of classes; both during school hours and those of the extracurricular variety with Tom. The younger boy's skills in potions had already vastly improved under Tom's tutelage; enough to earn him high praise from Professor Slughorn for managing to increase his grades until they were consistently E and above. The portly man had pulled him aside at the end of his most recent lesson, telling him not to stop whatever he was doing different under any circumstances.

Hadrian wholeheartedly agreed. He was having an immense amount of fun during the time he spent with Tom Riddle. The older boy had started to loosen up more in the time he spent with Hadrian, and had started to show a wickedly sharp sense of humour. His dry, sarcastic wit never failed to pull a laugh from the green-eyed boy. He had even helped Hadrian and his friends with their revenge against Septimus Weasley.

The revenge itself had been fairly easy to execute. Despite Abraxas' wishes to injure the boy, Hadrian had settled on humiliation. He felt that Septimus had brought it on himself with his near constant torment of the smaller Slytherin. The prank against the boy had been inspired by a new product which had been created to aid the war. Disappearing Ink was being sold country wide to those intending to keep their correspondence with one another completely secret. It vanished with a phrase of the writer's choice, and would only re-appear with the same phrase.

Hadrian had taken his idea to Tom, who had enjoyed the challenge to create a similar substance to suit his young friend's needs. He had been entertaining the same destructive ideas towards the Weasley heir as Abraxas. Only his respect for the boy he had taken under his wing prevented him from taking any solitary action.

The plan had been crude, yet thoroughly entertaining for the Slytherins. It had taken a few weeks for the boys to procure a set of Weasley's full uniform, a very important factor of the plan. Hadrian had convinced a young house elf named Tilly that he needed the uniform to see what size clothes the Gryffindor wore. He told the naïve elf of his plans to buy a gift for the other boy, and it would be such a shame if the clothes were the wrong size as the poor Weasleys didn't have a house elf to alter it. Only Hadrian's reputation for consistent kindness to the elves and a promise that Tilly would have the uniform back after five minutes had swayed her.

He had felt a little guilt at manipulating the trusting creature, but Tom's assurances that she would not be blamed and his praise of Hadrian showing his _Slytherin_cunning had soon raised the boy's spirits. All too often Tom would mention Hadrian's Gryffindor tendencies whenever he was reprimanding the boy. The younger boy often felt a swell of pride when Tom or Salazar would praise his Slytherin qualities. He would always feel a bit more at home; more accepted by his possible family.

Hadrian had duplicated the uniform before returning the original to Tilly, thanking her profusely for helping with his gift. As the delighted elf had returned to work, Tom had liberally doused the copy uniform in his new concoction. The potion he had created had held very similar qualities to the special ink. It was also odourless and after an hour of sinking into the fabric no evidence of tampering was left behind. Everything was set in place, and all they had needed was a time when Septimus would be alone.

Tom had been the one to set the prank in motion. He had told Hadrian that in the unlikely event that he be caught, he would be much more likely to get out trouble free due to his Head Boy status and spotless record. The opportunity had arisen before dinner on the last Friday of November. The boys had realised that Weasley was late heading back from the Gryffindor Quidditch practice, and his team-mates were already in the Great Hall. Tom had waited, out of sight, in the corridor outside of the hall while the other Slytherins casually strolled to their table and started eating; ensuring no-one would be suspicious of them in the ensuing chaos.

Minutes after Hadrian had started his meal he felt Tom's presence across from him. He glanced up to witness Tom quickly wink at him, showing the plan had so far been successful. Tom had hit the redhead with a weak **confundus**, followed by a switching charm on his uniform. The Slytherin had then stealthily slipped past during the boy's confusion and strolled into the Great Hall to watch the show. Hadrian had barely kept a straight face in his anticipation of his tormentor's comeuppance.

It hadn't been a long wait for the Slytherins. Tom had set the trigger word as one a fellow Gryffindor would have undoubtedly mentioned. Hadrian had actually managed to look up at the exact moment a sandy haired boy had uttered the word _Cedrella_. Not even a second passed before the boy yelped in surprise at the suddenly naked Septimus Weasley. A shocked silence stole over the Hall before a sudden snicker from a nearby Ravenclaw started everyone else laughing. Septimus had stared at the students pointing and giggling at him in bewilderment, completely unaware as to why he was attracting such ridicule.

He had felt no temperature change or loss of fabric normally associated with nudity, due to the fact he was indeed dressed; just in a completely invisible uniform. Even his underwear had been switched, leaving him exposed to the entire school. Hadrian couldn't have hoped for better timing. He was in tears of laughter by the time Weasley had realised his predicament; a full four minutes after the spell took effect.

The only niggle of guilt Hadrian had felt was for the traumatised first year Hufflepuffs who had regrettably been sat at eye-level with the fiery haired boy's genitals when he had stood to demand an explanation. It wasn't enough to stop him from laughing with the rest of his classmates when they witnessed the boy blush all over. His complete exposure had been the last straw for Professor Entwhistle, who had stalked down from the teachers' table to publicly berate him for his indecent display while conjuring a blanket to wrap around him.

Hadrian had later discovered that Septimus had been given detention every night until Yule holidays. He had expected it to be obvious that the boy was the victim, yet Tom had told him in the following tutoring session that he had used a strong compulsion on the boy to confess to his prank, giving the reason that it was a plan to set up the Slytherins for the blame. Tom said he couldn't resist taking the extra step to ensure the boy was punished in some way other than a simple humiliation. Hadrian just felt grateful that the Slytherin heir had refrained from injuring the boy and only put him on Entwhistle's bad side.

He couldn't bring himself to regret the prank though. Septimus had been much more subdued since the event and was no longer giving the new boy nearly as much trouble. This leniency suited Hadrian very well now that he was always so tired.

The reason for Hadrian's current exhaustion was the school's Head Boy. After Hadrian had shown such aptitude in Potions when learning under a dedicated teacher, Tom had decided to progress him onto learning magic not taught at Hogwarts; primarily Dark magic. Hadrian's confidence had come on in leaps and bounds during the lessons. Being regularly in the company of someone he felt so close to had allowed the boy to feel relaxed and comfortable enough to be completely himself. The skills he had already acquired in his Dark Arts classes had done no harm to his confidence either.

Hadrian had already learned that he was rather talented at D.A.D.A, and could appreciate the irony that he was equally skilled in such Dark Arts. He found that he could feel the difference in his magic when using Dark and Light spells, and understood why Light wizards often mentioned the alien feeling they had when they would use a legitimately Dark spell. It felt natural for him to use both styles of magic, but he did suspect he had used primarily Light magic until now as it felt much more familiar to him.

When discussing the feel of his magic with Tom, the older boy had advised him to focus on each feeling the different spells invoked in him. He had made Hadrian sit on his bed with his eyes closed and think of a Light and a Dark spell in turn. The younger boy had forced himself to relax completely before thinking strongly of the levitation charm; imagining himself about to use it and just letting himself _feel_. After feeling the soft tickling in his solar plexus growing he had directed it to his wand arm; marvelling in the feeling he had never before acknowledged when performing magic.

Once he had established the feel of Light magic, Tom had directed him to do the same exercise using the petrifying curse as his Dark spell. The magic had not tickled so much as swept through him in a strong wave. Like the Light magic, it had also started in his core and been easily directed to his wand arm. Hadrian suspected that with enough focus he could eventually use his spells effectively without a wand. As much as Hadrian enjoyed the gentle tickle he felt with Light spells, he had found that he preferred the rush of Dark magic.

He knew it was not more powerful for him; the effects of the spells showed him both types of magic were pretty much on the same level. It did, however, feel more powerful. It coursed in his veins, ready to burst free on his command. It was impatient and _there, _just waiting for him to use it. Like most sixteen year olds, Hadrian felt great empathy for the impatience of the magic. He was tempted to declare it as his favourite to use, but it seemed that Tom had expected that of him. He had told him that he knew no other so talented in both arts, and it would be foolish to neglect one rather than use all his resources to further his power.

The meditation session had lasted two hours, and Hadrian had come away from it with a whole new perspective of how to use his magic. The classes since then had allowed him to demonstrate his new ability to call his magic quickly and perform stronger spells. Tom had been known to smile more often since then and had taken to telling Hadrian to alternate between Dark and Light spells to get used to switching the different flows effectively. It was exhausting. Many Slytherins regularly witnessed the sixth year staggering from the Head Boy's quarters, bleary eyed and yawning after particularly tiring sessions.

Tom was highly thought of by his classmates and Hadrian, being Tom's protégé, had also earned the high opinion of most of his housemates. There were some who were jealous of Hadrian's closeness to the boy. Tom was not known for showing favouritism, even among the members of his growing following. Hadrian had actually found himself being treated with a little reverence from some for being the boy Tom had found worthy of being his closest confidante. He didn't particularly like the idea of being in Tom's reflected glory, yet he couldn't help feeling happy about the safety being Tom's friend afforded him.

No Slytherin dared to cross the newest member in fear of incurring Tom's wrath. They all knew of the following the Head Boy had recruited. His power and ideals of restoring the old ways had attracted many students to his cause; not all Slytherins. There were a few members from Ravenclaw, and even one seventh year Gryffindor who shared the same disgust of the prejudices against Dark magic users. Hadrian had been told of the group's existence by Tom after swearing not to tell another soul. He had been invited to attend a meeting in the New Year. Tom had explained that he had needed to be sure the boy was trustworthy before he could invite him, and to be careful of how he spoke to his tutor when attending as the others did not see him as Hadrian did.

He was not an older brother or mentor to his followers; he was their leader. A power figure needed to bring control and strength to the organisation which would eventually overthrow the ministry and abolish its biased laws. He demanded utmost respect in his meetings, and his friends called him by a pseudonym he had created in his sixth year. Hadrian was torn between delight that Tom trusted him enough to invite him to attend, and apprehension of meeting the character Tom had created. He supposed that only time would tell if he would share a similar relationship with Lord Voldemort. Right now he had Christmas to get through . . . and Tom's present.

Today was the day to worry about what to buy for his mentor. It was the only Hogsmeade Weekend which would be held during the war, and the students would be heavily guarded by the Hogwarts faculty. Headmaster Dippett had declared his intention to allow the shopping excursion during breakfast earlier that week; reasoning that the students needed a Christmas treat to help raise spirits. Dumbledore had actually scowled during the announcement, making his displeasure clear for all to see. Few had noticed though in their excitement over the upcoming trip.

Not wanting to go to a strange place alone, Hadrian had made plans with Abraxas and Orion to all go to the wizarding village together. Unknown to his classmates, Hadrian had been helping the Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Arielle Asti, to clean her classroom and organise her lesson plans twice a week. She had taken pity on him when the Headmaster had introduced him to the teachers and had thought of a way to provide him with funds for non-curricular activities. Every time he helped her he would be given one Galleon; an amount he had felt far too high for doing such a small job. Professor Asti had shushed his protests, stating that she had plenty of money and confiding her inability to have children. She was determined to do something good withher inheritance if she could. Hadrian didn't really know how to argue with that point, so he had gratefully accepted the money and put it aside for this occasion; when he could buy gifts for his friends and show Tom his gratitude.

"You awake in there?"

Hadrian blinked as he realised Orion was standing impatiently next to his bed curtains, likely about to yank them open. He had not moved since waking up ten minutes ago.

"I'm just getting up now," he murmured, sitting up Friday always left him shattered the next morning. He didn't think he was really suited to excessive alcohol consumption, even with the hangover preventing potion Tom had supplied to him, (though it was much better than the hangover _cure_ Cassius provided).

"Well get a move on! We only get one Hogsmeade Weekend this year and I refuse to waste it waiting around for your lazy arse!"

Hadrian snickered as he heard the large boy stomp away. Orion had been looking forward to the trip all week and no-one had escaped his constant chatter of his plans for gifts. The boy clearly loved his family, and was happy to be able to hand pick gifts for them at his own leisure. As he stepped out of bed he was suddenly assaulted with a pair of trousers hitting his face. Only his quick reflexes stopped them from dropping to the floor. He pulled them on, glaring at a smirking Orion all the while. Dressing quickly, he dashed to the bathroom to wash his face and clean his teeth. Orion had headed to the common room to wait with Abraxas, making it clear that he expected the scarred boy to be quick.

Once ready they left the dungeons and joined their fellow students at the school entrance to await the professors who would chaperone them. Hadrian caught a glimpse of Tom in his uniform, Head Boy badge clearly on display. He remembered that Tom would be acting as a chaperone too, and made a mental note to stay out of his way so as to prevent the older boy from seeing his gift before Christmas. He grinned at his tutor before turning back to his friends who were calling him. It seemed that the professors had arrived. It was time to go.

* * *

Hogsmeade was a welcome break from Hogwarts. Hadrian had grown to love the large castle, despite some of its more irritating occupants, but being there day and night withno reprieve had given him cabin fever. Strolling through the entirely magical village was the breath of fresh air he had dearly needed. It was a shame the place was completely packed with students. Hadrian would have liked to have the run of the town to search for suitable gifts. He supposed it was a rather selfish thought considering his classmates had likely been harbouring the same dreams of escaping the school for a day.

The three boys had been at Hogsmeade for four hours now and had already bought a considerable amount of gifts. Hadrian had managed to slip away for ten minutes to purchase Abraxas and Orion's gifts; choosing a personalised quill set for Abraxas who took great pride in the presentation of his writing, and a charmed comb for Orion who regularly complained about the time it took to tame the errant curls in his wavy brown hair. The comb would style his hair immediately with only a thought from the boy.

Cassius and Theodore would be receiving books from Hadrian, something the avid readers would no doubt enjoy. Now he only had Tom to worry about. He had considered buying a snake for his tutor, but decided against it. Tom was in his final year of school and incredibly busy. He would likely not benefit from having to care for a talking pet. He also considered jewellery. The only jewellery he had ever seen on the boy had been a silver ring with a black stone. Something Tom said he had inherited from his maternal grandfather. Tom had been directing a lot of speculative glances towards the ring during lessons in the last week or so, making Hadrian wonder at the reason for his sudden fascination.

"We should try Silvrikins." Hadrian heard Orion announce from beside him, "There is a necklace there that I know Walburga would love. Best to get on her good side before we marry next year."

Abraxas and Hadrian watched as the stocky brunet strode into the ancient jewellers before strolling in leisurely behind him. The shop was small and full of stands varying in height; all displaying the stores wares. Hadrian quickly learned that great care was needed when manoeuvring through the store. A careless turn would likely cause the vast display of silver jewellery and antiques to topple. Fifteen minutes of browsing with no success left him feeling rather disappointed. The three boys had already been to most of the stores in Hogsmeade, leaving only the sweet shop to visit. Hadrian somehow doubted he would find a perfect gift for Tom there.

"There's always Owl Order." Abraxas stated.

Green eyes widened in surprise that the blond had guessed his train of thought so accurately. He turned quickly to face the Malfoy heir, cringing as his elbow caught on a low stand. Unfortunately for Silvrikins' proprietor, Hadrian's reflexes only helped him to catch the stand itself. An array of silver items clattered noisily to the ground, drawing the attention of the stores other occupants and making the boy flush bright pink. He quickly knelt and gathered the silver pieces, hastily trying to put them back on the display in some semblance of order.

Orion had sauntered over at this point, having finished his transaction. He and Abraxas stood together unhelpfully watching as Hadrian cleared up his mess. As he was preparing to place the last piece he suddenly realised what he was holding.

"That's interesting." Orion murmured, peering over his shoulder.

Hadrian nodded in agreement. In his hand he held a long silver chain threaded through an Ouroboros. His attention had been drawn to the pendant when his finger had brushed across the scales. The snake had released its tail from its jaws and hissed a greeting at the boy. He had barely withheld a response, bearing Tom's warning in mind. A knowing look from Abraxas showed that the blond had noticed the snake's actions and still remembered Hadrian's skill.

"I think that you may have just found a gift for our resident parselmouth," he muttered.

Hadrian grinned, grabbing the identical necklace he had already placed on the stand. He stroked the second necklace, curious of whether its snake was also charmed. It was. He just about managed to conceal his delight at finding such a pair. Tom had told him of the tattoos he had developed with Salazar's help. The tattoos had already been gifted to some of his closer followers; the Inner Circle. They had agreed unanimously that it be called the Dark Mark, in celebration of their united goal to bring Dark magic back to power. It had sounded like a worthy enough cause, but Hadrian had expressed his displeasure at being marked in such a way.

In a long discussion with Tom he had mentioned that he did not want to be a follower. He believed in the cause Tom was championing, but he knew in his heart that regardless of who he may have been before, he was not a mere sheep. He would help Tom as well as he could, and he would join the group if it was suitable for him, yet his lessons with the older boy had taught him of his own power … and that Tom wanted him.

Hadrian wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. The time spent with Tom brought about a side of him with almost as much cunning as his mentor at times. He saw the occasional gleam in the red-flecked eyes when the boy talked of his plans and Hadrian's part in them. Tom was developing the boy's skills for more than just friendship. He had seen potential in his possible fellow heir, and wanted the boy on his side. Hadrian was glad to be there, but as an equal. He wanted to be second in command rather than a lackey.

This is why the necklaces would make a great gift. He could show Tom his willingness to join his cause by allowing the boy to charm both necklaces with the parseltongue spell he used for the Dark Mark. Each boy could wear their pendant and have the ability to communicate both ways. If Tom agreed of course. If not, at least he would have an attractive necklace as a Christmas gift.

"I take it we're done now?" Abraxas murmured when Hadrian had paid for the pendants. He had haggled with the owner to bring the price down to one he could just barely afford. He was now down to his last few Sickles, which he had every intention of spending in the Hog's Head.

"Everyone on my list now has a gift." Hadrian agreed happily.

"Good … then let's go. I'm starved!" Orion stalked past the pair in the direction of the nearby pub. The pair exchanged an amused glance before following the hungry boy. They had barely exited Silvrikins before a horrifically loud sound like a thunderclap had everyone throwing their hands up to protect their ears. The busy street had come to a complete standstill as shoppers and residents alike looked around in bewilderment for the source of the sound. Hadrian felt the hairs on his neck rise and turned in the direction where he knew someone was watching him.

His eyes sought out the grey-green pair of Riddle like a magnet. He could see Tom's eyebrow rise from a across the street and immediately understood what the boy was trying to say. He found himself drawing his wand at the exact same moment as the Head Boy, noticing others following suit. Not even a minute had passed before several cracks of apparition filled the air, immediately showing Hadrian that the original sound had been from Hogsmeade's wards collapsing. Multiple screams of terror at the appearance of the new arrivals and a significant glance from Tom told the boy all he needed to know. These visitors were very unwelcome.

At least thirty people had appeared in thick burgundy robes and terrifying black masks. All had their wands drawn and stood in an aggressive formation, leaving little doubt in the villagers' minds that a battle was about to break out. Hadrian swallowed thickly.

Tom had not yet prepared him for this.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Looong wait this time I know. In my defence, my laptop had a TV remote thrown at it (accidentally … and it wasn't me) which completely smashed the screen. ****My work has been saved on this laptop and fortunately only the screen suffered damage so it was eventually retrievable. Anyway … excuses done with now. I have now learned that memory dongles are worthy investments when writing stories **

**Reviews are appreciated as always … much love and thanks for everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Hope you enjoy…**

* * *

"Get down!"

Hadrian barely had time to acknowledge the order before Tom had gripped his collar and yanked him down to the floor. Not even a second had passed before a sickly green light sailed where his head had just been.

"**Stupefy**!" Hadrian snapped; taking down his would-be-assassin as the robed figure strode toward the two crouched Slytherins.

Hogsmeade Village was in absolute chaos. The new arrivals had opened fire within moments of their arrival, sending curses indiscriminately. It had become clear very quickly that everyone and anyone were targets. Villagers and students alike had attempted to flee while very few stayed behind to fight (mainly Gryffindors, Hadrian had noticed).

Tom had been across the street in a few strides, maiming two assailants on his way to Hadrian. The two has witnessed Orion and Abraxas apparate away moments before the wards had snapped back up. Their quick thinking had ensured the two sixth year Slytherins had escaped unscathed. Hadrian hoped that his friends had apparated far from this battle, as these men seemed to be taking no prisoners.

Hadrian and Tom had quickly dashed into the alleyway beside Silvrikins and ducked behind a stack of wooden crates. The precious seconds were needed to devise their escape plan, as Hadrian seriously doubted the six teachers chaperoning the trip stood much chance of protecting them. Tom had pointed out their professors running around trying to herd the students in the direction of Hogwarts while throwing up their strongest shields.

Hadrian had moaned mournfully when he witnessed Professor Asti succumbing to the killing curse. The woman had thrown herself in front of a seventh year Hufflepuff girl, who had stared transfixed at the scene; before screaming in grief and terror. It seemed that the kind professor's life had been given in vain when the petrified girl took a cutting curse to the throat. She gurgled sickeningly as blood bubbled on her lips in her attempt to inhale, before collapsing dead to the ground. It was horrific to watch.

No one was safe. Tom recognised these men as Lord Grindelwald's followers. They had been in the Daily Prophet on a regular basis due to their attacks across Europe in their bid for power. Only a few years ago, Tom had agreed with their ideals. Gellert Grindelwald would make speeches of restoring the old ways and creating equality between Dark and Light, after making calculated attacks on foreign officials who heavily supported the Light bigotry. In recent months however, the attacks had been on rural villages; both muggle and magical. The man was after something different now; and Tom hadn't yet figured out what. Whatever it was, Tom wondered if it was truly worth becoming such a terrorist for it. The man was becoming unpredictable and seemingly irrational. He was no longer as inspirational as he had been.

The plan to stay hidden behind the crates had not worked out very well. A stray blasting curse from a masked fighter had blown the crates apart. The boys had leapt out of the path of the explosion, but had still suffered injuries from shrapnel. Hadrian could feel several inch-long splinters embedded in his right arm where he had thrown it up to protect his face. Tom, being the taller of the two, had taken a fair few scrapes and cuts to his chest and right shoulder.

Tom pulled the younger boy back to his feet, dodging a red jet of light and sending a castration curse at the caster. Hadrian couldn't help but wince in sympathy as the man shrieked in agony.

"_**We need to get out of here Hadrian! We can fight well but there are too many for us to take on . . . there are at least thirty trained soldiers trying to decimate this place!**_"

"_**Agreed.**_" Hadrian murmured decisively. He was outraged by the violence being inflicted on the historical village and wanted to help protect it; not to mention harm the aggressors. He suspected that was his Gryffindor side Tom often referred to. Fortunately for Tom, Hadrian's self preservation was taking control at this point in time and telling him to get back to safety.

"_**We should go through Silvrikins. There should be an exit at the back and we can head to Hogwarts from there.**_" Hadrian shouted.

He didn't care that people might notice his ability to speak parseltongue. It seemed like the smart choice of language to use when shouting his escape plans really; eliminating the danger of anyone eavesdropping on his conversations with Tom.

"_**That would be foolish! Silvrikins is unstable. It has been raided already and probably won't last the night!**_"

Hadrian had already taken a few steps towards the jewellery store as Tom had replied. He hesitated in his next step when he registered what Tom had said. He personally hadn't noticed anyone entering the store, but he had been fighting for his life at the time. He spun back to Tom and gasped at the change in the boy.

Eyes which had been flecked with red before were now a deep burgundy. The light from the fires blazing through the village made them look almost crimson . . . and rather terrifying. The older boy was furious with their predicament; and his eyes showed it. Hadrian had never been happier that Tom was on his side.

A loud crash from behind drew viridian eyes back to the store. It seemed that Tom had been right. The doorway which had only seemed slightly fractured to Hadrian earlier had crumbled completely, seriously threatening the rest of the store's structure. A quick glance around the village showed that many homes and businesses were suffering the same fate.

"TOM!"

Both dark heads whipped to the around simultaneously at the urgent cry. Hadrian was almost overcome with the sudden fury which rushed through him. Theodore Nott was on the ground; writhing and twitching grotesquely as he shrieked in agony. A cloaked wizard stood over him; wand in hand as he tortured the skinny Slytherin. Cassius Avery had a desperate look in his violet eyes as he was prevented from reaching his friend by a second assailant. He appeared to be struggling tremendously against his opponent. The witch he fought was a whole foot shorter than the stocky boy; yet what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in skill.

Her spells were indecipherable to the blond teen. They were shouted in a language he assumed to be German, and left him at a disadvantage as he had no idea whether shields would work efficiently against them. He had taken to dodging the curses thrown his way and summoning objects to shield himself. He had very few opportunities to send his own curses back.

"**Reducto!**" Hadrian roared as he charged towards The Three Broomsticks where his friends were battling furiously. The village had emptied of students fairly quickly as the surviving professors had managed to herd most back to the castle. A few of the masked fighters had followed the children, but most, it seemed, had abandoned the stores to terrorise the residents' homes. The Three Broomsticks had sustained little damage before the businesses had been discarded.

Hadrian felt the thrilling rush of powerful Dark magic erupt from him as his spell struck true, shattering the spine of Theo's attacker. In his haste to help his fallen comrade, Hadrian barely acknowledged the man dropping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. He dashed past the inert figure and dropped to one knee by his trembling friend. He suspected that they had little time before more fighters would come. He left Tom to help Cassius as he hovered uncertainly over his injured roommate.

"Theo?" Hadrian's tone was urgent. He was wary about touching the boy at risk of causing any further pain.

"Ha … Hadrian?"

The reply was barely audible; Theo's voice was nothing more than a croaky whisper due to the damage his vocal chords had suffered from screaming. Hadrian still heaved a sigh of relief. Although he was by no means fine; Theo was lucid. He had not succumbed to madness as so many would when held under Cruciatus for so long.

"Do you think that you can walk?"

Muddy brown eyed widened in bewilderment. For the last few minutes nothing had existed but white hot pain. Although it had mercifully stopped, he still twitched as his nerves protested the recent torment. He could see a boy he recognised as Hadrian … something… leaning over him with a worried expression and asking him if he could walk. The question seemed ludicrous to him. He could barely think. He craved a strong pain relief potion and unconsciousness for the next week.

"I hate to ask this Theo but its dangerous here and we need to get back to Hog …" Hadrian was cut off as a robed body slammed into him. He leapt up in alarm, wand at the ready and eyes alert; seeking his attacker. Theodore's pained yelp drew his attention back to the boy.

A bizarre sight met his eyes. Hadrian's 'assailant' was floating face down a few inches above Nott, completely limp.

"I apologise."

Hadrian whirled around, startled. Tom was standing beside him, silently levitating the dead woman away from Theodore as Cassius quickly knelt to assist the boy.

"I didn't intend for her to strike you." Tom explained as he coldly dropped the corpse.

"You killed her?"

Tom smirked at his friend. Hadrian's expression was blank, but Tom knew instinctively what he was feeling; surprise and disapproval. He had no intention of allowing the younger man to think negatively of him for long.

"It was self defence," he drawled, "Not that I have to explain myself. She was going to kill Avery … and myself, given the chance." Tom looked highly doubtful of the possibility of his defeat, causing Hadrian the frown at his arrogance. Cassius had pulled Theo to his feet at this point and had slung the shorter boy's arm around his shoulder.

"But death …?"

Tom raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly over the scarred boy's shoulder. Hadrian frowned at Tom's expression and turned to follow the red-eyed boy's gaze. It was there that he witnessed the fate of his own opponent. The man he had struck in his attempt to save Theo now lay in a crumpled heap on the ground; clearly dead. Hadrian gasped as he realised it had been his own curse which had taken the other wizard's life. He had allowed his rage and desperation to help his friend to overcome him when he had thrown such a destructive curse at the man's spine.

"I … I didn't realise that I had killed him," he almost whispered.

"Are you sorry?" Tom murmured.

Hadrian didn't answer for a minute as he allowed himself to search his own feelings for an honest response. "I should be. I killed a man. But … But he was torturing Theo. He was going to kill an innocent boy for no reason …" Hadrian hesitated for a moment before continuing, "He was dangerous and cruel … He deserved it."

"I agree," Tom stated in satisfaction as he turned the smaller boy to face him. His eyes narrowed at Hadrian's expression and he placed his hands on slim shoulders, "So why do you look so guilty?"

Hadrian shrugged, "I think I feel guilty that I don't feel guilty?"

Tom snorted and rolled his eyes, "Definitely part Gryffindor," he muttered as he turned and strode over to Theo and Cassius, silently ordering his student to follow. Hadrian glanced at the dead man once more before jumping slightly at the sound of an explosion in the distance. He immediately remembered the imminent threat of the masked soldiers returning to their area and turned away from the bodies to run back to his fellow Slytherins.

"What's the plan now?" Cassius was clearly exhausted as he gasped his question. His recent duel had tired him significantly and he was struggling to support Theo's weight. Despite the Nott heir's small structure, he was near unconscious from his torture and leaning heavily against the blond supporting him.

"Carry him. He is useless like that." Tom ordered while wordlessly casting a feather light charm on Nott. As Cassius hoisted him over his left shoulder, Tom continued, "We head to Hogwarts. The action seems to have moved towards the residential area for now."

Hadrian gazed at his surroundings in dismay as Tom spoke. In contrast to the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance, the area of Hogsmeade the boys occupied was a quiet tableau of death and destruction. The four boys were the only people standing as they watched buildings burning; the firelight glowing on the unconscious bodies and corpses in the dark of the November night.

At least two students and one professor lay dead on the cold, cobbled ground. Three invaders had also been killed while two others survived; both heavily maimed by Tom when the battle had started. Hadrian doubted they would last another hour judging by the amount of blood they had lost.

" … Honeydukes."

"What?"

Tom scowled at Hadrian when he realised the boy had not been paying attention, "I said that we are heading to Honeydukes. There is a tunnel in the cellar which leads straight into Hogwarts. The store also happens to be uncompromised at this moment in time, but we don't know how long for. It should be our safest route back to the castle."

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Hadrian said before tapping his wand on his head to disillusion himself. He watched as the others followed suit before heading towards the sweet shop with his wand raised; Cassius and Nott hot on his heels. Tom took up the rear position, guarding against any attacks from behind.

* * *

Hogwarts Hospital wing was steadily filling up with patients. Nine students occupied the white beds; suffering a variety of injuries which ranged in seriousness. Madame Leblanc was rushed off of her feet trying to simultaneously heal her patients and keep hysteria levels down. Professor Entwhistle had already been sent to St Mungos due to the grievousness of her injuries. She had been hit with a multitude of cutting curses, and rescued by Septimus Weasley.

The boy had hit her assailant with a blasting curse while Cedrella Black had hastily conjured bandages to tightly wrap around the unconscious woman's wounds. Professor Marchbanks had quite possibly saved her life with some very quick thinking. She had thrust a rapidly produced portkey into the Weasley heir's hand and sent him to the wizarding hospital with his teacher.

Headmaster Dippett was now watching over Lucille's work while trying to aid as much as possible. The stout man was sweating profusely and wringing his hands in anxiety between passing her potions and directing the stream of new patients to unoccupied beds.

Disaster had struck the local village, and many of his students and professors had become victims of the foreign terrorists. He was terrified. Armando had initially frozen in shock when the eagle patronus had soared into his office; urgently announcing the attack on the village in Professor Asti's normally soft voice. The students had been arriving back to the castle in droves, and Dippett had finally pulled himself together and floo-called the Ministry, begging for aid.

His voice had been amplified through every corner of the castle, instructing all of the lower year students to go their dormitories immediately. He had then ordered a lock down on the entrances to each House. The last thing he needed was terrified first years running amok in the school when he was trying to bring order to the growing chaos. He was quickly becoming overwhelmed; not to mention incredibly stressed that he had no clue where Albus had disappeared to. His Deputy was normally the person who would support him and keep him level-headed. He wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief and turned towards the opening door.

"Horace!" he gasped, relieved his Potion's Master had made it back unscathed. He hurried over to the portly man.

"Did all of the students make it back, Horace?"

"No Headmaster," Professor Slughorn rasped; distraught by what he had witnessed in the village. This had been the first attack by Lord Grindelwald's followers on British soil.

"At least six of my Slytherins haven't been checked back in yet. I witnessed two deaths … I … I don't know if there are more. Poor Arielle." He trailed off with a loud sniff.

"We lost Arielle?"

"Yes … she was defending Eleanor Edgecombe but … but the girl was killed moments later!"

"Dear Merlin! So young … these wizards are truly barbaric killing innocent young witches like this!" Dippett hissed furiously, "Are there only six students unaccounted for?"

"Septimus Weasley has also not checked in …"

Armando waved his hand dismissively, "Young Septimus escorted Elizabeth Entwhistle to St Mungos via portkey earlier. He is uninjured."

"That's some good news I suppose," Horace sighed as he headed towards the matron to lend his assistance, "Professor Dumbledore passed me a moment ago. He asked me to relay a message."

"Yes?" Armando questioned urgently.

"He will be meeting the aurors in Hogsmeade to aid the villagers. I offered my aid but he sent me here saying my skills would be put to more use helping Madame Leblanc. I didn't get a chance to protest as that phoenix of his appeared and whisked him away."

Armando stared blankly at his colleague for a moment before turning back to potions he was organising. There was not much he could do at this point to help Albus. The Transfiguration professor was easily the most capable of his staff in helping to defend Hogsmeade and drive back the soldiers.

He could only hope now that Albus would safely return soon with his missing students.

"Headmaster!" a shrill voice cut into his thoughts, reminding him that he still had plenty of work to do here.

"Coming Lucille."

* * *

The trek to Honeydukes had been fairly uneventful. Theo had finally passed out as the boys were entering the store, leaving Cassius beyond relieved that Tom had cast his charm on the boy. Hadrian's dorm-mates were already at the back of the store, ready to enter the cellar and head to the secret tunnel. Tom had sent Cassius ahead with his load; telling him to get the boy to the Infirmary as first priority. Cassius was more than happy to follow the order. Safety sounded _very _appealing right now.

"So what are we doing now?"

Tom turned to Hadrian who was watching him impatiently. The younger boy didn't understand why they had stayed behind with safety so near.

"We will only be delayed for a moment Hadrian. Do you not trust my judgement?"

Hadrian narrowed his eyes, "Of course I trust you!" he snapped, "I am, however, entitled to ask questions about why we are loitering in a battle zone!"

Tom finished waving his wand over the doorway and windows before gazing steadily at the boy, "I was warding the door to prevent anyone following us. Feel free to add a few Light wards. Mine are all Dark."

Hadrian grinned slightly at Tom's suggestion, secretly happy that there was something he could do better than his mentor. He proudly added the three wards he knew which didn't require crystals or runes before looking pointedly at Tom.

"Now we can go." Tom smirked at his friend's relief and took at step toward the rear of the store.

Another thunderclap like sound stopped the boys in their tracks.

"There are more?!" Hadrian whispered in disbelief.

"No." Tom murmured, glancing through the store window. Many crimson cloaked figures had apparated into the village after the second ward had collapsed.

"The cavalry have arrived to save the day." He sneered.

"Cavalry?"

"Aurors …. Now come along! We have no purpose being here."

Tom stalked past Hadrian as the boy gazed through the warded window.

"Dumbledore!" he gasped.

"Dumbledore?"

Hadrian looked up at the boy who had appeared almost instantly by his side to stare at the new arrivals, "He's here! He just arrived with the aurors."

"So that's why..." Tom murmured, so quietly that Hadrian had barely heard. At Hadrian's nonplussed expression Tom elaborated.

"I had wondered why Lord Grindelwald had sent his followers here. It would have taken immense effort to bring down the wards here and for what? To terrorise some villagers? It seemed ridiculous. But now …" he laughed and shook his head, "It makes perfect sense. He did it to draw him out."

Tom smirked at Hadrian, satisfied that he had solved the riddle. His eyes, Hadrian had noticed, had returned to their original colour when they had reached a relatively secure area. Hadrian doubted he would ever forget the terrifying effect they had had.

"You've lost me."

Tom turned back to window, his body tense in anticipation. He wasn't disappointed. The soldiers had been drawn back towards the business area soon after the aurors' arrival. The aurors had clearly chosen to put most of their effort into driving the attackers away from the residents. Three more cracks filled the air and Tom grinned widely.

"Is that him? Lord Grindelwald?" Hadrian whispered, frozen in place at the window.

"Yes." Tom breathed.

Lord Grindelwald was dressed in a fur lined cloak, similar to those of his followers. His, however, was black with silver runes stitched at the hem. He had arrived flanked by two of his warriors and his wand held high. His full blonde hair was matched exactly in colour by thick eyebrows. Deep lines were etched into his forehead and around his eyes; evidence of a man not afraid to express his emotions with his face. Cold blue eyes gazed across the street at Albus Dumbledore as thin lips spread into a smile.

"Finally Albus! You have arrived … I thought it would have been sooner personally with your precious town at so much risk."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, twinkle missing entirely. Rage was etched into every line of his face and Hadrian knew there and then that he never wanted that man to look at him in such a way. Power radiated off the man in waves. The fight had stopped and the wizards and witches still standing were divided. Aurors were scattered around Dumbledore, awaiting his first move. Grindelwald's surviving men had retreated. They now stood in a long line facing the town's defenders; with Lord Grindelwald taking the middle position.

"You ordered the deaths of innocent people tonight Gellert! Children!" Albus roared.

"Tsk tsk Albus. I only ordered the village attack. I did not know there would be a pack of schoolchildren wandering the streets in a time of war." The blonde drawled, "I had expected your arrival long before so much blood was shed. I needed to see if you would leave the safety of your little castle."

Albus glared and lifted his wand, "Why are you here Gellert?"

Dumbledore's aggressive gesture had most wizards shifting uncomfortably. They knew a battle between the two lords would bring catastrophe to the area and anyone unlucky enough to bear witness.

"I wanted to inform you of a find of mine," the Dark Lord's grin grew wider at this, "I sincerely doubted that this information was something I could tell you through mere owl post."

Dumbledore's frown deepened at his foe's response. Grindelwald lifted his arm slightly higher before pointing it away from Albus, displaying the wand to his old friend. Hadrian watched his professor's eyes widen dramatically as he almost gaped at the wand.

"You found it." He stated numbly.

"Indeed. I cannot deny that I came here to gloat. I have achieved the power I desired, Albus. I am capable of achieving the dreams we once sought together now. I will soon rule this world and there will be peace under my laws!"

"For the greater good Gellert? You cannot honestly believe domination of the entire Wizarding World is achievable! Even with your new … acquisition."

The Dark Lord laughed deeply at Albus' agitation, "Oh I know it is possible my old friend… even more so now," he waved the wand jauntily at the bearded man, "Until next time Albus. Rückzug!"

The shouted word had spurred the Dark warriors into action. Most apparated away in time with their Lord, with only a few remaining behind for a mere moments to grab their fallen comrades and vanish with them in tow. Albus shook his head sadly as Grindelwald departed before turning away to help the aurors.

"How … anticlimactic." Tom sighed, stepping away from the window.

"Are we going _now_?" Hadrian asked, shuffling his shrunken purchases in his robe pocket to a position where they no longer dug into his hip.

"Yes."

Hadrian took a last glimpse at the village and followed Tom to the cellar; wanting nothing more than to get his injuries patched up and a good long sleep. Hopefully it wasn't too long a walk back to the school.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed the story so far. I am so sorry the wait has been this long between chapters and I will endeavour to make sure it doesn't happen again. There is a brief explanation in my profile for the reason but its not something I intend to go in to much detail about … in summary, real life issues. Anyway … a new chapter has been written and updated for your enjoyment :D My muse has made a re-appearance so more chapters should be forthcoming soon. Hope you enjoy this instalment …**

* * *

Green flames roared in the Headmaster's fireplace, briefly reflecting the mood of the man being admitted . Albus Dumbledore was agitated. Not even the soft trills of his faithful phoenix helped to soothe him. Baby blue eyes narrowed in irritation as he approached his chair; an uncharacteristic scowl marring his features.

"Meeting not go to your liking, Albus?"the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, one of Hogwarts' former Headmasters, sneered.

"Regrettably no." Albus sighed as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. Barely a second later he had snatched his hand away, staring at the deadened, black appendage in dismay.

It had only been a few months since he had retrieved one of Lord Voldemort's numerous horcruxes from Marvolo Gaunt's old home. The curse on Gaunt's ring had taken the use of his left hand, and would have taken his life were it not for the skills of his dear friend and colleague; Severus Snape.

As it was, it had still been too late to stop the curse completely. The curse had already started to spread up the affected limb, now reaching his forearm. Severus had predicted that this Christmas would be the last Albus experienced. The old wizard sighed again as he thought of how much needed to be accomplished before he moved on to his next great adventure. He had intended to start teaching young Harry Potter about the Dark Lord's horcruxes, so the boy would be able to continue where Albus would inevitably have to stop.

Unfortunately for Albus, Harry Potter had been missing for three days now. The only possible source of information on the boy's whereabouts rested in the mind of the unconscious Malfoy heir. It seemed no Enervate could wake the boy. Madame Pomfrey had made it clear that only time would tell of Draco's fate.

Thoughts of Draco Malfoy only served to remind the Headmaster of his cause of irritation. Since his son's admittance, Lucius Malfoy had taken up near constant residence in the school hospital wing; only leaving when Narcissa would take his place for the night. The Headmaster suspected that it was not just concern for his near-squib son that kept the blond aristocrat in the school. No doubt Lord Voldemort was very curious of his missing adversary's current location and condition. It was highly likely that the Dark Lord had ordered Lucius to be the first to get such information.

Dumbledore's meeting with Scrimgeour had been a bid to remove the elder Malfoys from the castle; only allowing attendance at set visiting hours. It had gone poorly to say the least. Before his removal from office, Minister Fudge had realised that things were about to go very badly for him. In a rare display of insight from the normally obtuse man; Cornelius had foresaw his impending unemployment and had chosen to line his pockets with Lord Malfoy's gold. In return for providing Cornelius with a comfortable retirement, Malfoy's name had been thoroughly cleared.

Rufus Scrimgeour, in spite of his hatred for all Death Eaters, had found his hands tied when it came to assisting Dumbledore. He had been unable to create a reason to keep parents of a very ill child away from his bedside. He had suggested having the boy moved to St Mungo'ss or even Malfoy Manor; an idea that Dumbledore had hastily scuppered. Albus had been disappointed by how much Rufus had missed his point. He didn't need the boy away from the castle. In fact he needed access to Draco when he regained consciousness, if only for a few minutes so he could get his information.

This would hopefully be all he needed to draw the information required from the boy's mind. The old man was easily skilled enough to leave the boy none the wiser to the intrusion. The teen's parents would likely suspect legilimency the second he locked gazes with the boy. A distraction would be required to keep them occupied while he worked his magic.

As Albus pondered his options, the fireplace flared green once again.

"Headmaster?"

"Yes, Poppy?" he addressed the disembodied head of the medi-witch now hovering in his fireplace.

"You asked me to inform you when Mister Malfoy started to awaken …"

"Is Lucius there?" Albus was unable to prevent the urgency from colouring his voice. He dearly hoped that fate had chosen today to smile on him by sending the other wizard elsewhere.

"He's at his son's bedside now Headmaster."

Albus kept his face blank as he dismissed the healer, keeping his dismay well hidden, "Fawkes!"

The magical bird sailed over as he watched his master hastily scribble on a piece of conjured parchment. He held out his foot to accept the missive in his claws. Fawkes was no common owl to have messages tied to him.

"Take this to Severus with haste please Fawkes," Albus murmured, briefly stroking the birds plumage before it flashed away in a burst of flames. Dumbledore turned to the roaring fireplace, turning the flames green for the third time in an hour. "Hogwarts Infirmary!"

* * *

"You haven't turned the page for an hour now 'Mione."

"I … What?"

Hermione Granger blinked and dragged her gaze away from the page she had been staring at rather than reading. Brown eyes locked onto the concerned blue of her boyfriend, before closing wearily.

"I can't concentrate," the bushy haired girl admitted as she ran a hand through her curls.

Ron did not need Hermione to tell him that. He had watched her sit in her usual armchair in the common room, staring blankly at her transfiguration text for a good portion of the afternoon. He personally had not even opened his bag; having no intention of touching his homework. His best friend had been missing for three days now, and Ron was beyond distracted. The past seventy-two hours had dragged by for the duo as they had shared a multitude of emotions, ranging from fear for Harry's well being, guilt for abandoning him and hope for his safe return. The hope had come and gone so many times as they recalled the fixes the boy so often found himself in, that it was painful each time fear took it's place.

The youngest Weasley male had watched miserably as his girlfriend slowly fell apart. She had started with vigorous research into what could have caused the young hero's disappearance, and ended up sitting in quiet thought as she found herself in the same predicament as the Headmaster; hoping Malfoy would wake up soon with information.

Ron's hands clenched into fists that gradually turned white as he thought of the blond ferret. Malfoy was responsible for Harry's disappearance; he just knew it. Everything pointed at the boy and there were no coincidences when that slimy git was involved. Lucius Malfoy's claims that his son was a fellow victim just outraged the redhead. His eyes narrowed tightly as he allowed himself to fall back into what had been a regular fantasy as of late; beating the Death Eater wannabe into a pulp until he admitted to Harry's whereabouts. Merlin, he hoped the boy had become a Squib; one less Dark boot-licker to bother with.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione was looking at her boyfriend with an expression bordering on fright as the boy seethed in his armchair opposite her.

"Malfoy," was his only explanation.

Hermione nodded in understanding. She had heard plenty about Ron's fantasies regarding the Slytherin in the last few days. As much as she believed the boy should be given the benefit of the doubt; innocent until proven guilty and all, she had to admit that she also believed he was the perpetrator in this situation. Draco Malfoy was very rarely a victim of anything. She had just opened he mouth to respond when the portrait acting as an entrance for Gryffindor slammed open, admitting Dean and Seamus. The Irish boy's eyes lit up as he hurried over to the seated duo; Dean strolling at a slower pace behind him with a pensive expression.

"What are you doing here? Thought you'd be in the Infirmary."

Ron frowned, "What's happening in the Infirmary?"

"Well rumour has it, Malfoy is waking up!"

That caused the forlorn pair to sit up straight. Ron was ready to leap up and head straight to the hospital wing but the look on his girlfriend's face kept him seated. Hermione turned to face Seamus fully as he sat in the third armchair near the table. Dean stood behind the seat, seeming hesitant to touch it. It had, after all, been Harry's unofficial chair when the Golden Trio studied together.

"Where did you hear this?" Hermione questioned seriously, causing Seamus to stop bouncing in his seat and sober warily. She had to force herself to stop getting excited at every rumour and possible lead regarding Harry, as so far they had all lead to misery.

"The Ravenclaws. Overheard three of 'em from the last fifth year DADA class, Luna's class, going on about how Snape cut his class short and let them out early. That phoenix of Dumbledore's had appeared with a note for him and next thing you know he dismissed them and went straight to the fireplace in the office shouting 'Hogwarts Infirmary', so he did."

Hermione thought it over for mere moments before standing decisively, nodding at Ron to follow suit. Seamus explanation had sealed it. Ravenclaw gossip was so rarely inaccurate or exaggerated. Snape was no doubt in the Infirmary. The Gryffindor just prayed that it was for Malfoy and not some other random student in need of a Potions Master.

* * *

Severus Snape stalked through the fireplace gracefully, giving away no indication that he had just spun rapidly through flames and ash. Slytherins did not stumble and cough messily through a floo as so many others were inclined to do. The Slytherin Head of House always ensured he showed no weaknesses which could be exploited. There was nothing he could do however, to prevent his normally stoic face from morphing into an expression of alarm as he witnessed the scene in the Infirmary.

Lucius Malfoy had non-verbally summoned Draco's clothing while simultaneously verbally tearing into the Headmaster. His heated words never rose to shouting volumes but Severus dreaded to think of what Albus could have done to make the Malfoy Lord lose his composure. His mind caught onto the screeches of the medi-witch demanding that the 'poor child' be kept resting in his bed while he recovered his magic. The DADA professor managed to withhold his sigh of relief that his Godson had not become a squib. After all, he had more important things to think about. Namely the young blond hastily pulling his robes on, with terrified wide eyes staring at the Light Lord.

Obsidian eyes flickered to the face of his old mentor and widened further. Sheer rage was etched into every line of the man's face, blue eyes glinting like chips of ice as he glared at the boy. Albus Dumbledore's face was so rarely expressive of anything but mild humour. It was terrifying. Snape composed himself swiftly before approaching the arguing men.

"How can I assist you Headmaster?" he drawled.

Albus turned to stare blankly at Severus, which only alarmed the man further. Albus' discovery had actually caused the man to forget he had summoned his spy. Severus could not actually think of an occasion where the older man had forgotten his own scheming. Lucius had taken Severus' interruption as an opportunity to stalk away from the Headmaster and grasp his now dressed son's arm. Madame Pomfrey had given up at this point, recognising the fact that no-one had acknowledged her squawking, and stormed back into her office.

"We will be leaving now Dumbledore." Lucius sneered, refusing to show the man any respect with his title, "Severus," he murmured, nodding at the fellow Death Eater.

"Draco Malfoy will not be leaving this school! Not only does he require further medical assistance, he is also guilty of using illegal Dark magic against Harry Potter with ill intent!" Magic crackled ominously around the wand of the white bearded wizard, causing his fellow Order member to take a cautious half step back.

Lucius smiled grimly while Draco cowered behind him, "And where is your proof of that old man?" he sneered triumphantly, "My son has hardly uttered a word since waking! You barely glanced at him before throwing unfounded accusations. I know the esteemed leader of the Light would not dare break the laws of this country by intruding into the mind of a minor unauthorised, so I have to wonder where you got this information. My son had told me before your arrival that he was attacked while returning to the castle and his magic drained. Harry Potter was nowhere near at the time!"

Severus knew Lucius had won this fight without contest. Albus could not force the boy to stay if he was conscious and physically fit. Low magical strength was no reason to keep a person bedridden, after all, muggles and squibs managed just fine without it. He couldn't push for the use of Veritaserum or legal legilimancy without a valid reason. His illegal trespassing against the young Slytherin's mind would do him more harm than good in front of the ministry or Wizengamot. At least Lucius wouldn't push for action against Albus as it would risk drawing attention to his heir's misdeeds. It was a stalemate.

Albus seemed to have reached this conclusion too as he sighed and the crackle of magic dissipated. He turned away from the Malfoys, missing the younger's grin as the boy regained his perfect posture and followed his father from Hospital Wing. Draco wouldn't return to Hogwarts any time soon.

"I shall be needing your assistance in my office if that is all right with you dear boy?"

Severus merely raised an eyebrow, not bothering to reply to the order worded as a question.

"Miss Granger and Mister Weasley may accompany us," Albus continued, causing Severus to blink. A glance at the doorway showed that the two sixth year Gryffindors had obviously arrived to witness the Malfoys departure, if the outraged look on the redhead's face was anything to go by.

"Headmaster?" the know-it-all queried quietly.

"We will head to my office now."

If the teenagers were alarmed by his solemn demeanour they managed not to show it as they hurried in his wake. Severus simply followed the trio of Gryffindors, face revealing nothing as he considered all he had witnessed in the last ten minutes. No doubt Dumbledore had a few revelations to share with them. He would keep an open mind for now.

* * *

The winter holidays had arrived at Hogwarts, and most students had chosen to go home to spend time with their families and exchange gifts. Hadrian had been delighted to receive a snake of his own from Tom; a Pueblan Milk Snake whom he had named Shay. The name was an abbreviation of the name she had told him; Shayseethasheem. Tom had managed to apparate from the school gates to Diagon Alley to purchase the tiny shy reptile on the weekend after the Hogsmead attack. Shay had spent a week in the Chamber of Secrets with a basilisk for company so Tom could keep her hidden for Hadrian's surprise. She now lived in a warm tank in the Head Boy's room as the younger parselmouth wanted to keep his abilities a secret. Hadrian had told Tom that he would likely be spending much more time in the room now as he was so besotted with the colourful creature.

There were only three days left before the students returned, and Tom was sat at his desk studying while Hadrian slept on his bed. The boy was exhausted from the vigorous duelling sessions Tom had convinced him he needed three times a week. Tom wanted to ensure that the boy was well prepared for danger for future inevitable battles.

The day of the Hogsmead attack had been chaotic and tragic. Students and teachers had lost their lives along with many of Hogsmead's residents. Theodore Nott had been distraught to find his younger brother, Terence, had been killed in the battle. The studious boy had gone home early for the holidays to grieve with his family. The Slytherins who had returned through Honeydukes had been stunned when to discover that Nott's twelve year old sibling had sneaked out of the school with his friends using the same passageway. The rare trip had obviously proved too tempting for the under-age student. It had been the Avada Kedavra which had taken his life when Grindelwald's followers had first arrived. Tom shook his head in disgust; who killed an innocent twelve year old who posed no threat?

Until recently, Tom would have never been able to imagine what his Death Eater was feeling with the loss of his only brother. As he gazed possessively at Hadrian's sleeping form on the bed, he supposed he could begin to understand. Despite only knowing the boy a few months now, Tom trusted him above all others. Hadrian never lied to him or told him things just because it was what he wanted to hear. He was honest and unafraid to tell Tom when he thought the older boy was making a mistake (a rare occurrence). The amnesiac skilfully spied on his Death Eaters without even realising he was doing it. He had honestly befriended each member and answered Tom's subtle enquiries truthfully. He was incredibly loyal and argued passionately against anyone who dared badmouth the Head Boy; not that there were many who did. Tom was rather popular and well-liked after all. His defence of Tom didn't stop him from telling Slytherin's heir off in private if he felt the need. Tom would nod solemnly while chuckling fondly inside.

Hadrian was his favourite. The closest thing he had to family and his only friend. His compassion kept Tom's cruelty in check while Tom influenced him to be more cunning and ruthless. The green-eyed boy made Tom Riddle a better leader without even trying. Anyone who had held their doubts about Tom's humanity had changed their opinion when they saw his interactions with the younger Slytherin. Riddle didn't doubt for a second that anyone who dared harm his pseudo-sibling would suffer greatly at the end of his wand.

"Plotting again Tom? You have not been here often but to sleep. I still have not heard the full details of the battle last month. Only that Dumbledore had a rather disappointing dispute with Lord Grindelwald."

Tom's lips twitched into the barest smile as he turned to face his ancestor. Salazar was looking at the sleeping boy with a hint of concern in his dark eyes, "Hadrian suffered a few scrapes but he's perfectly fine now, merely exhausted after our duelling today." Tom drawled to reassure the old man. "He was rather magnificent at the battle."

Salazar rose an eyebrow, "How so?"

"He killed a man to assist Nott. Reducto to the spine … it was rather inspiring. No nonsense involved, he just removed the man from the battle to rescue my Death Eater."

Slytherin looked again at the boy who was now lightly snoring, surprise in his eyes, "I hadn't thought him capable of murder yet..." he murmured.

"He shocked himself I believe." Tom relaxed into his seat and slid his desk draw open, pulling out a black diary. "He held no regrets however. In spite of what he may have thought at the time, he wanted the man dead. Rage was dictating his actions when he aimed that wand and he wanted to make sure the man couldn't get back up after being struck. His soul is torn now. Innocence lost..."

"Do you think him capable of doing it again?" Tom looked up from the diary as his elder continued, "You are building an army Tom, to restore the old ways of this country. If you do indeed hope to make Hadrian your second in command and advisor, he will need to be just as able as you to kill when it is required."

"He will." Tom murmured assuredly, "He is loyal to me and my cause. He may only be vaguely aware of the Death Eaters now but I have seen his mind and know I can trust him. I am the only family he has and he will fight beside me when I ask it."

"You will be leaving this school indefinately in a few months. You will need to use this time to train him thoroughly to match your own strength and skill if possible. He survived the fight but he is still naïve and vulnerable to attack. You will be making many enemies when your cause is known, and at this moment Hadrian is your biggest strength and weakness.... do not frown at me boy! You may believe yourself invulnerable with that diary preventing your death, but you are aware that were anything to happen to him, your mind would suffer for it."

"No-one would survive my wrath!" Tom hissed fiercely as the boy in question slept on obliviously.

"No … Not even you."

"Meaning?"

Salazar's expression was stern as he looked at his descendant, "You have been truly alone and self sufficient for almost all of your life Tom, and it made you a ruthless murderer at a young age with no compassion for others. To lead this country the people in it must love and respect you, not fear you. If they fear you, they will rebel."

"They cannot harm me ..."

"You cannot truly die, no. However, you will not achieve what you aspire to if you become another 'Evil Dark Lord'. Gellert Grindelwald was once a man on a path to greatness with Dumbledore as his partner, but today people fear him and build armies against him. He has his followers who also further destroy the general perception of Dark magic. They just confirm the Light's prejudices. Albus ... Albus is no better. The Dark magic wielders hold such distrust for him and rightly so. He does not hold their best interests at heart, just his own machinations." Salazar stroked Xeno softly as he watched the sleeping boy roll onto his side, "Hadrian keeps you sane Tom. I had worried that you would keep creating horcruxes after the diary and drive yourself to madness in your quest for immortality, but now you focus on your cause and your protege. I know that you keep only one horcrux because you're aware tearing your soul further would only harm your relationship with him."

"You are right. I cannot risk losing him." Tom agreed decisively before walking over to the unconscious figure, sitting gingerly on the foot of the bed so as not to wake him, "**Somnus**!"

Salazar quickly rose to his feet, "What are you doing?!"

Tom turned back to his mentor with crimson eyes as he pointed the yew wand at Hadrian, "It is best he sleeps for this as I doubt he would approve of my intentions. Also, the ritual can be rather painful." He smiled eerily, "You have said it yourself and I agree entirely. This is something I have been considering for a while now and you have only confirmed my beliefs. Hadrian must not die under any circumstances." Pale hands pulled the silver ouroboros and it's chain from the collar of his shirt, untying the clasp and holding it in a tight fist.

"He will live for as long as I want him to."

* * *

Ronald Weasley was losing his patience.

He had managed to restrain himself since the moment Seamus had appeared in the common room forty minutes ago, but he was close to his limit. Hermione had barely managed to prevent him from leaping on Draco as the boy had strutted from the Infirmary with his father, sneering at the Gryffindors as he passed. They were so close to the truth now that he could taste it; and yet he was just sat quietly with no information while the Headmaster stood by the window staring pensively through the glass. A glance to his left showed Hermione fidgeting in her own seat in impatient agitation.

Snape showed no such emotion. His tall, imposing figure was could be mistaken for a dark statue while he waited for Dumbledore to speak. Not a single twitch betrayed his own impatience. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Forgive me my dear," the aged professor smiled benignly before moving to his desk to take a seat, "I have received worrying information today and I am now deciding the best course of action to resolve the situation."

"Its about Harry isn't it? Malfoy did something to him." Hermione was on the edge of her seat now, so close to the answer she had craved for days. Ron had also sat up straighter when his girlfriend spoke. Snape remained as still as ever.

"Yes," Albus confirmed solemnly, "I obtained a snippet of information from him before his father removed him from the school, but it was enough. He will be healing at home now so we will have to work with what we have been given."

"So the measly ferret hurt Harry and he's going to get away with it?!" Ron couldn't help himself from finally erupting after having his suspicions confirmed. No amount of shushing from Hermione was going to calm him, "Will he be arrested or is Malfoy's dirty money going to keep him free to hurt more people like his filthy Death Eater father?"

"Sit down and be quiet Mr Weasley! Draco Malfoy is not the reason we are here ..."

"Well of course you would defend one of your slimy Slytherins Snape! You want him to get off scot free..."

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a professor!"

"Ronald sit down!" Hermione snapped, also on her feet now with a calming hand on the boy's shoulder.

"But..."

"Please sit down Mr Weasley" Dumbledore's tone was gentle but there was a glint in his eye which made the boy in question take notice and heed his request, "_Professor _Snape is correct. There is nothing I can do regarding Mr Malfoy at this moment in time. However, our priorities now lie on getting Harry back with us."

"Back from where, Headmaster?" Hermione questioned warily.

Dumbledore sighed softly. He gazed at his guests through his half moon glasses for a moment as he considered his response.

"The question is not from _where_ my dear, but _when_."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: After an eight month unplanned hiatus I'm back with chapter 16 and lots of apologies for all my readers and reviewers who have had to wait so long. I am sincerely sorry. As an avid fanfic reader I appreciate how frustrating it is having long waits between chapters. To summarise, real life has been chaotic and regrettably tragic between these last two chapters. I've also experiences a major bout of writers block which finally decided to ease off in the last month, giving me a chance to get this chapter out of my head and onto the web.**

**On a final personal note, I dedicate this chapter to my beautiful best friend and cousin; Lianne. With just three months difference in age she was my lifelong friend with an incredibly kind and generous soul. She will always be missed x **

**As always, please read and review (have made this chapter a my longest yet for my lovely readers) … **

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* * *

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Tom was grateful that no-one would see him like this. He had spent his school years cultivating a character of dignity and refinery. Perfect poise was integral to the image he maintained. Hadrian's sleeping form would not witness the Head Boy sat on the bedroom floor, leaning heavily against the wall while mopping his brow with a handkerchief. Three of the candles from his ritual had burned out over an hour ago. Only one solitary flame flickered haphazardly, close to extinguishing on its short wick as it threw ghostly shadows across the walls. Salazar had given up on berating his heir the moment the ritual had started; knowing that intense concentration throughout had been required. He knew the young man well enough to realise that he couldn't stop him, and distracting him only put Hadrian at risk.

Tom gazed at his closest friend as he slept. Hadrian had been unconscious through the entirety of the ritual; thrashing briefly as Tom had reached the crux of his chanting before letting out a sob and becoming still once again. Tom had just about managed to complete his work while trying to remain unaffected by the younger boy's discomfort. He knew from personal experience that removing part of ones soul was not a pain free experience. It was not a physical pain he had felt when he had created his diary horcrux a year ago, but an ache he could only imagine likening to grief. Part of him torn from the murder of a schoolgirl had been ripped away; leaving him with a faint hollow feeling. He had hoped that Hadrian's lack of consciousness would prevent him from feeling such pain, but apparently more research into souls was required.

With a weary sigh, Tom dragged himself to his feet, using the wall for support. Dawn was approaching, and it wouldn't do to have Hadrian waking to candles, herbs and potions scattered across the bedroom floor. Tom doubted that his protégé was very well-read on ritualistic magic, but even a Hufflepuff first year would suspect something was amiss were they to stumble upon such an array of magical ingredients and drawings.

"_**Had I not witnessed it, I would have never believed you were capable of betraying him so."**_

Tom groaned as he plucked another scrap of parchment from the rug to place in the wicker basket he had conjured earlier. He had learned during the creation of his own horcrux that it drained his magic greatly, leaving him almost squib-like for several hours afterwards. Only his in depth research beforehand had prevented him from panicking and believing his powers were forever lost. As he had prepared the tools required for the ritual earlier, he had also made sure that no magic would be required for the clean-up; so as not to drain him any further. He finished collecting the last of the evidence before sliding the basket under the bed, ready to be banished later. Tom wearily took the seat beside the bed before finally meeting the eyes of his scowling ancestor.

"_**It was not a betrayal," **_he drawled.

"_**You tore apart the soul of your only true friend with neither his knowledge nor consent!" **_Salazar sneered, gripping onto the armrests of his elegant chair. Xeno, sensing his mood, quickly slithered down the chair leg and curled up in the corner of the portrait. _**"To think, I had believed you capable of finally caring for another being!"**_

Crimson eyes flickered to the teenager on the bed before narrowing on the founder, _**"You know full well that it is my love for Hadrian which held most influence over my decision,"**_ he drawled, eyes challenging the older man to comment on his choice of words.

"_**Love!"**_ Salazar spat, unafraid to contradict his descendant. _**"Were your feelings any true form of love, you would never have damaged the boy so. His well-being would have been your priority."**_

"_**And so it is!"**_ Tom hissed in outrage, _**"I want him to be safe. Because of me, Hadrian cannot die. He will stay with me always; my family and second in command. The love I hold for him meant that he suffered as little as possible while I ensured his immortality! I gave my blood and risked my magic to make sure that Hadrian will survive. How can you say I do not love him? That I have betrayed him?"**_

Tom scowled as he sat down again, realising that he had stood while heatedly defending his actions. He was far too exhausted to stay on his feet for long.

"_**You forget Tom , that I am no sycophant who will listen to your false reasons and hang on to every word you say. You kept Hadrian asleep so that he could not suspect what you were doing to him. Not for him … to him. You know that he would never have agreed with the mutilation of his soul. I dare say you have not told him of your own horcrux as you suspected he would disapprove. You do not respect him enough to appreciate his own potential opinions in the matter, and that he may hold more care for his soul than you do yours."**_

"_**I was not the one to shred his soul" **_Tom defended tiredly, _**"He did that himself when he killed a man."**_

"_**Do not twist the circumstances of that death to suit your explanations," **_Salazar interrupted harshly, _**"You and I both know that the man's demise was not pre-meditated by Hadrian. He was defending a friend during a battle. Rules of war are different than rules during times of peace." **_Salazar sighed as he slumped in his seat, his rage burned out as he gazed sadly at his younger heir, _**"It is only his lack of remorse that tore his soul. I suspect your influence is responsible partly for that."**_

Tom nodded, not even bothering to pretend being offended at such a statement. He had, after all, spent months training Hadrian in hopes to make the boy even more ruthless. The fact that the boy wasn't snivelling over a deceased foe was something that brought great satisfaction to the elder teen.

Salazar watched as Tom reached out and ran a possessive hand through Hadrian's thick, black hair and heaved a sigh, _**"I pray to Merlin that he forgives you Tom, when he finds out … because he will find out. Whether it is today or several decades from now, he will realise that he is no longer the person he was only yesterday."**_

"_**He will be stronger for it."**_

"_**Maybe." **_Salazar murmured, _**"Maybe not. One never knows. One day he may know you as I do, and realise that you honestly believed you were acting in his interest. You were not, unfortunately." **_he raised a hand to prevent Tom's interruption, _**"You want him alive for you as you cannot bear to lose him, no matter the consequences. Your quest for immortality has left you blind to the fact that a great many people do not wish to live forever. It is not something you would understand with your fear of death, so I will not begin to explain it to you."**_

"_**Death is for the weak." **_Tom sneered.

Salazar shook his head wearily,_** "So you have told me. You have educated me in your aspirations to become a lord many a time Tom. I can only hope that many lifetimes in Hadrian's company will make you more human, and a better leader for it. Better that he influence you than the other way around."**_

"_**Why thank you." **_the boy muttered dryly. He rubbed his eyes for the third time before making a decision, _**"I am going to rest now. We will have to resume this conversation at a later date as I simply do not have the energy for it any longer."**_

"_**We certainly will,"**_ Salazar promised gravely,_** "You cannot put this off for too long Tom. Maybe sleep will help you realise the impact of you actions today … you may even consider confessing to Hadrian ..."**_

Tom couldn't withhold a derisive snort. He had put a lot of effort into keeping the other boy none the wiser. He was hardly going to confess after going to so much trouble. He climbed onto the bed next to Hadrian, scanning his features and smiling at the untroubled expression on the young Slytherin's face. Salazar's words hadn't swayed him. He knew his decision had been the right one. Maybe Hadrian would feel the hollowness, but he would not know the cause of it. He would just feel like something was lost or forgotten. No doubt that many decades from now Tom would be forced to tellhim what he had done. After all, even wizards normally didn't live forever. But Tom could worry about that at the time. He smiled in satisfaction at a job well done, pushing the portrait's words from his mind and closing his eyes.

Moments later both boys were deep in sleep as Salazar watched over them, once again stroking the scales of his snake who had returned when his anger had subsided. Morning would come soon, and with it, Hadrian's first day as an immortal.

* * *

"What do you mean Sir? Has Harry been taken to a different time?"

Albus nodded soberly as he gazed at the bushy haired witch, "I did not get much information from Mr Malfoy other than the spell he used on Harry ... _**Reverto ut vicis of adversarius vis.**_"

Ron stared in confusion at the Headmaster as he heard his girlfriend gasp beside him. Even the ever stoic Professor Snape allowed his eyebrows to rise in reaction to the news. Dumbledore merely nodded gravely rather than elaborating.

"So what does that mean?" the redhead blurted out impatiently.

Hermione huffed in annoyance as she spun to face him, "It is Latin, Ronald. The language we have used in our incantations for the last six years. Roughly translated it means to go back to the time of opponent's strength or force."

"So … Harry has been sent back in time? To when his opponent was strongest?"

"Yes Ron," Hermione sighed and slumped back in her chair, "We won't know exactly where … when he is, will we?" she murmured turning back to face the headmaster, "We couldn't possibly know when V...Voldemort was at his strongest."

"He isn't at his strongest now?" Ron queried in confusion.

"It is all down to how the spell interprets strength," Albus responded wearily. "I do not personally believe Voldemort is at his peak today. The Dark Lord is insane and feared throughout the country. His mind is fractured and his followers stay loyal through fear rather than love for him or his ideals." Dumbledore's gaze fell to his withered hand, considering another part of his old student that had been fractured.

"How did Malfoy even think up a spell like that?" Ron grumbled.

Snape snorted derisively at the boy's idiocy, "Mr Malfoy did not create the spell, you imbecile."

Hermione grasped the boy's shoulder as he attempted to stand in protest, "Its a very old, dark curse that fell into disuse centuries ago as it affects the caster so negatively."

"What does it do to the caster?" Ron snarled, still glaring at his professor.

"Surely you have not missed Mr Malfoy's stay in the hospital wing this week Mr Weasley?" the man sneered in response.

"Ronald ..." Hermione hissed as her boyfriend opened his mouth for a scathing response. She jerked her head in the direction of the Headmaster who was waiting patiently to speak.

"Sorry Sir," he muttered.

Albus merely smiled and conjured a comfortable chair to appear behind the only person still standing, "Please sit, Severus. I would prefer we all be comfortable for this tale."

As the Potions Master sat, Dumbledoreshared his knowledge."The intention of the spell was to send the victim to a time when his deadliest foe was at the greatest strength. It was capable of destroying them more thoroughly, with more than physical and magical strength. A caster would use it to ensure the victim's death, without personally casting the killing blow. Men could be sent back to a time of his foe still being alive and at their most terrible, or even to the foes of his ancestors.

Only four occurrences of the spell have been documented. Three of the casters lost their magic entirely, fading into obscurity as ridiculed squibs. Only one person has returned from the past alive as far as we know. His name was Filius Kettleton and he was sent two hundred and sixty-three years into the past; to the time of a radical tyrant who had terrorised his ancestors after a blood feud. As I recall, he took on the identity Lucien Augustine and eventually slew the tyrant after seven years of feuding."

Hermione interrupted excitedly, "I know this! It is in the history books as the Great Battle of Alton! Lucien Augustine was hailed as a hero who came from nowhere. When Lord Vestus was defeated, Augustine settled down and had a family, living comfortably in the riches he had been awarded as thanks for his services to the Light." Barely a breath was taken as she rushed on, eager to impart her knowledge, "His departure was as abrupt and mysterious forty-two years later. He was never seen again."

"He was certainly seen again," Albus gently corrected, "He had arrived back in his own time, on the exact same spot he had left. It was only sixteen months after the original spell had been cast."

Hermione's quick mind calculated this, "So for each day he was gone from his own time, a month was spent in the past?"

"Exactly my dear. He returned, forty-two years older than when he had left, and nothing like the person he was. He spent a time grieving for his long dead family, before taking his own life when he couldn't adjust to his new, or should we say old life."

"Why did he return to his time at all? Was there another spell? Did somebody bring him back? Could we get Harry back with a spell?"

Dumbledore raised his hand calmly to interrupt the witch, who blushed and closed her mouth with an audible snap.

"Historically, only death has returned the curse's victims from the past."

Ron's hands clenched on the arms of his chair and he gritted his teeth to hold back from interrupting the man. Hermione had paled rapidly while Snape had yet to twitch. He merely gazed at his employer while he awaited an explanation.

"As I stated earlier, only one man returned alive from the four documented cases. The other three were assumed defeated by their foes when they were returned immediately to their own time at the moment of death."

"But … but Lucien Augustine ..." Hermione stuttered inelegantly.

"... Arrived back in his own time after the death of the Gregory Pitch; the wizard who cast the original curse." Dumbledore finished for her.

Quietness enveloped the room for a few minutes while the occupants mulled over this new information. It was a sombre scene as each person frowned pensively, only the ticking and whirring of numerous spindly objects breaking the silence.

"So … if Malfoy were to die then -"

"Do not even complete that sentence Mr Weasley!" Snape ordered, black eyes glittering in rage at the boy who had spoken, "Should you even contemplate harming Draco, I shall -"

"Enough!" Albus stood abruptly, silencing the dark professor, "We shall find a way to bring Harry back without harming anybody!" Disappointed blue eyes alighted on the youngest Weasley male, who ducked his head in shame. "We need more research at this time. There have been so few cases like this and there are many factors that may come into the equation..."

"Like the strength of the caster! And the amount of time he was unconscious and how much magic was drained …" Hermione interrupted eagerly.

"Exactly so, Miss Granger." Albus' smile was indulgent, yet weary, "I am going to give you permission to access the Restricted Section of the library for the next forty eight hours which I will trust you to use responsibly. I will do my own research and we shall convene then to compare information. Should anything come up the the meantime, I shall summon you with Fawkes. If you will please excuse me, I wish to speak to Professor Snape."

Hermione nodded grimly before standing and pulling Ron back to his feet, "Thank you for telling us this, Headmaster." Albus merely smiled as she turned to the door, dragging the redhead behind her.

Severus sneered as the children left and turned back to his employer, "I shall research all potions and rituals that may counter this curse and bring the boy back if you wish it."

Albus nodded solemnly, "Dark and Light. We can leave no stone unturned if it will help Harry return to us. He is integral to the war against Voldemort. Thank you, Severus." Snape nodded once sharply and departed through the door the Gryffindors had taken moments before.

After several minutes of silence, the headmaster finally strode across his office and opened his cabinet. With a flick of his wand, the pensieve was floating over to his desk.

"Let us see if I can remember you."

* * *

"Did you know that the war had ended?"

Hadrian whirled around to gape at Abraxas. The question had been asked in such a nonchalant manner that Hadrian was unsure whether the boy was being serious. He wondered how he could have missed such a declaration and whether a ceasefire had been called. As far as he was aware, Professor Dumbledore had not been in any battles recently.

"So … what happened? When did it end? How have I missed this?" He hissed, ignoring the shushing coming from the school librarian.

"It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. Apparently he killed himself a week ago and it's officially over."

Hadrian leaned back in his seat in disbelief. He and Tom had only been discussing the war this morning and Tom had given no indication that the Dark Lord had died. Was it possible that Tom had just been too preoccupied to even realise that he had one less obstacle in his path to become a dark leader?

"Did the paper say why Grindelwald killed himself?" he whispered.

Malfoy stared blankly at him for a moment before snickering and shaking his head. "Lord Grindelwald still lives as far as I know. No, it was Adolf Hitler who killed himself back on 30th April. The muggles have declared that tomorrow will be Victory in Europe day. There will be parties in the streets throughout the country."

"Sounds..." Hadrian trailed off, unsure what to say.

"Fun, I know." Malfoy finished for him.

"Fun?"

"Of course! We have plans to sneak out and apparate to London to slum with the muggles tonight. Get some free drinks and maybe pull some pranks … nothing is more fun than muggle baiting!"

Hadrian raised a brow in amusement, "And what exactly is muggle baiting?"

"Showing the fools things that couldn't possibly be real," a voice drawled from behind Hadrian. The boy in question spun around to see Tom smiling viciously, eyes speckled crimson at the prospect of taunting those he loathed so intently, "So far I have only been able to witness elder Slytherins confusing the muggles with impossible images to make men doubt their own minds. Now I have reached majority, it will be my turn to show you boys how to really make a man fear for his sanity."

Hadrian still wasn't sure that this sounded like fun. He didn't see the point in tormenting muggles for the sake of it. However, he did understand Tom's hatred of the non-magical humans. After hearing the tales of Tom's childhood, he was even more impressed that the older boy had become such an influential, successful student; if a little sadistic.

"Tonight, once dinner is complete, we will be taking the tunnel to Honeydukes and heading to Diagon Alley via floo," Tom murmured, shooting a stern glance at Abraxas. "Although Mr Malfoy here may be seventeen, not all of my Death Eaters are. Last thing we need is the trace recognising under-age apparition and ruining our fun."

Death Eaters. The band of followers Hadrian had yet to officially join. Although the boy was no doubt closer to Tom than anybody, the elder teen had not invited him to take his mark. Hadrian was too relieved to be offended. He still held doubts about swearing allegiance to Tom's own version of Salazar's Knights.

Back in Salazar Slytherin's heyday, the school founder had also been the leader of a pureblood group named The Knights of Walpurgis. These wizards had held his ideals regarding the protection of wizarding society from the muggles that had threatened their very lives. They had helped create spells and implement laws that hid and protected wizardkind; holding seats on the original Wizangamot. The descendants of the Knights held powerful roles in wizarding society through the generations, ensuring in any way possible that the secret of magic's existence stayed at top priority. These means ranged from subtly adjusting laws during peaceful times, to terrorist attacks against all those who threatened the secrecy during times of war. Muggles and magic wielders alike would be struck down in swift, brutal attacks by the Knights to keep the secret.

Tom's Death Eaters held some descendants of the original Knights, many of whom had grown up hearing the history of their ancestors and had kept their eyes out for a Dark Lord of their own generation to support. Orion Black had confided to Hadrian that he had fully expected to follow Lord Grindelwald as he was growing up. The man had been inspirational to the boy in his early teens. As the years progressed however, Grindelwaldhad been quickly knocked from his pedestal in Orion's eyes by a potential lord much closer to home. Tom Riddle had been awe inspiring in the way he cultivated loyal followers at so young an age. The teen was ruthless, driven and deeply ambitious. Intense Dark power seemed to seep from his very pores. Orion, like many of his classmates, remained enthralled to this day. He had been thrilled to be offered a place in the Death Eaters; delighted to follow an inspiring man while continuing a Black family tradition.

Hadrian had listened to Tom's speeches about how he and his Knights would overcome death itself; hence the newly named Death Eaters. He had high aspirations and the young Slytherin believed in the cause Tom led. It was not enough for the boy to want his own skull and snake tattoo however. Hadrian was wary of committing to any lifetime plans until he had his memories back. He couldn't promise himself to Riddle's dream, when he didn't know his own past. For all Hadrian knew, he could regain his memories tomorrow and be disgusted with his actions of the last six months.

"Well?"

Tom had that exasperated expression again. The one he got whenever Hadrian stopped paying attention to go into his own little world of introspection. Hadrian smiled sheepishly as the elder boy shook his head.

"You'll be sticking with me."

"Um … why again?" Hadrian had no issues with staying by Tom's side, but he found the command odd considering Tom's insistence that the boy be independent and self sufficient.

"I shouldn't need to repeat myself." Tom frowned, "Although we intend to floo to London, should anything happen we will need to be able to apparate away. Each of my under age Death Eaters … and friends," he added at the boy's raised eyebrow, "will have a partner capable of side-long apparition. Obviously if you lose your partner, you can apparate alone but I prefer to leave that as a last resort so as not to raise questions about under age students being in London during term time."

"Are we expecting problems?" Hadrian whispered, feeling more and more dubious about the wisdom of this trip.

"No. However, we are not impulsive Gryffindors who go looking for mischief with no back up plan." The Head Boy sneered.

"Tom has yet to be suspected for any mischief he's committed in his seven years here." Abraxas smirked, with an admiring glance at the boy in question.

Tom was smug as he turned back to Hadrian, "Come back to the common room after dinner. We will meet there and head out together after curfew when I'm due to start my prefect patrol. Slughorn will have no suspicions then."

"Sounds pretty foolproof."

"Of course it does," Tom smirked, "It is my plan, after all." With that he turned on his heel and left the library; two amused Slytherins in his wake.

"Brilliant man." Abraxas muttered under his breath. Hadrian grinned at the admiration in the other boy's eyes, glad that his pseudo brother was so respected by his followers. Merlin knew the older boy worked hard to earn it. Hopefully tonight would be a good chance to let their hair down and have a break from all of the schooling and training occupying their minds of late.

Half an hour later, Abraxas rose gracefully and started placing rolls of parchment and ink bottles in his bag, "Dinner time," he announced; barely concealing his enthusiasm under the trained Malfoy poise.

Within a minute both boys were sauntering from the library with bags slung over their shoulders, eagerly anticipating their upcoming adventure.

* * *

As another shop window shattered, Tom cursed himself again for not reaching this conclusion sooner.

_The Death Eaters had all taken Dumbledore's absence from dinner as a good sign. The remaining teachers and headmaster had displayed varying levels of concern at their colleagues absence and Tom had begun to hope that the interfering professor had managed to injure himself somehow. Whatever the reason, it meant the man would be too busy to notice when the slytherins snuck out of school._

_Tom had dismissed any niggling worries when the boys had reached The Leaky Cauldron without a problem. The wizarding pub had been entirely empty when Tom and Hadrian had arrived with nine Death Eater students. They had darted into muggle London as stealthily as possible, disbelieving of their luck that they hadn't risked being spotted by any wizards who may question their reason for being away from school. After thirty minutes of roaming the streets and watching the festivities without detection, Riddle had determined that they could safely split up into pairs and enjoy themselves for just one hour. After that, they would meet back at the pub to floo to school._

_The first part of the plan had gone off without a hitch. Tom had immensely enjoyed tormenting no less than three muggles who had strayed away from the celebrations. He had been slightly disappointed that Hadrian could only to be a spectator rather than participate, but he couldn't risk the use of underage magic just to test the boy. The amnesiac had progressed in leaps and bounds during the last six months, and Tom held no doubt that his protégé would be his second in command some day. The teen had forever to lose that pesky conscience after all. Hadrian would torment with the best of them soon enough. It was only a matter of time. _

_The hour had flown by in Tom's eyes, and it was with adrenaline and Dark magic rushing through his veins that he herded his followers back to the magical pub; a near maniacal grin adorning his aristocratic face. _

_It was still empty. _

_Not even the barkeep was in attendance as the Death Eaters took turns to use the floo. Four boys had already made it through the green flames before Tom decided he was too curious to ignore this queer silence. The Leaky Cauldron was one of the most frequented pubs in magical London. Tom had chosen to floo here as patrons were coming and going almost non-stop most evenings. When he had first entered to the quiet room, he and Hadrian had shared a glance, concerned that a group of wizards in muggle attire would be easily noticed. The lack of any patrons or staff had led to him feeling as though fate itself was shining upon him; encouraging a night of fun and mischief. Now though, an empty pub on the return was worthy of suspicion._

_He could not ignore this._

"_Tell those who have already gone through to return to the castle. I expect them to get back to their rooms unnoticed. Disillusioned upon re-entry to Hogwarts as planned."_

_Theodore Nott nodded rapidly as he listened to his leader's instructions._

"_Should I return immediately, mi-lord?"_

"_No. Return to Hogwarts."_

_Theo nodded once more before grasping a handful of the travelling powder. Although disappointed at his dismissal, he couldn't deny the relief he felt at avoiding any potential risk now that things were looking peculiar. He could only imagine his mother's reaction if she lost another son. With a rush of green flame, he was gone._

"_What now?" Hadrian's voice was quiet as he cast a wary glance around the room._

"_We're going to investigate the reason this pub is empty, yet still open."_

"_Why?" The other Death Eaters took a wary half step back, expecting the inquisitive teen to receive a reprimand or even a curse for his insubordination. The corner of Tom's lip quirked up ever so slightly at his friend's insistence. He recalled the Disney movie, Pinocchio, that he had seen a few years prior. The wooden puppet was full of questions, much like the boy quizzing him now. _

"_Because I want to." he replied simply, knowing it would irk the teen. He gave a gleaming grin and turned to the others._

"_Malfoy and Black will stick together. The same goes for Lestrange and Gideon." It went unsaid that Jameson would shadow Riddle again. It had become par for the course nowadays._

"_We will go through the portal into Diagon Alley while disillusioned to observe only. No mischief."_

_Hadrian was the only occupant of the room who had yet to reach age seventeen, and so received a wand tap on the head from Tom, followed by the familiar feeling of eggs running down his neck which came with the disillusionment charm._

"_Jameson and I will go through the portal first. The rest of you will follow after exactly two minutes unless we return. Should there be any problems at all, you will return to Hogwarts and straight to the dormitories quietly."_

_Silence enveloped to room as the students nodded seriously. There was no mistaking the terrifying change in Tom's eye colour to pure crimson. It rapidly became clear that this was a mission, and Lord Voldemort was in command._

_Four Dark wizards disillusioned themselves as their leader and his favourite disappeared through the back door to the famed passageway into Diagon Alley. _

_Then all hell broke loose._

Tom held up yet another shield as he pulled a dizzy Hadrian to his feet. The boy had been struck on his left shoulder by a falling window shutter, and it looked to be dislocated. The aspiring dark lord had no time for sympathy as he stepped in front of the recovering teen. The green eyed boy had already managed to regain his bearings and erect a shield of his own in any case. Six months of training with his mentor had ensured he was prepared for any battle zone.

And this was undeniably a battle zone.

The two boys had barely stepped through the magical archway into Diagon Alley before a blast of purple light had struck it; causing the whole thing to explode outwards and throw the teens painfully to the ground. Tom had been on his feet barely a second later to strike down the perpetrator. It didn't take a genius to recognise the burgundy robes as those belonging to Lord Grindelwald's minions. Riddle had rolled his eyes in annoyance as he pulled his only true friend out of harms way and into a nearby alley. Normally under these circumstances the elder slytherin would be finding a way out of the chaos and back to safety of the castle. Self preservation was generally high on his list of priorities. However, there was something keeping him here that he would not miss for all of the galleons in Gringotts.

Lord Grindelwald and Professor Dumbledore were duelling.

Tom had been waiting for this day ever since he had heard rumours of the prophecy. The showdown he had witnessed in Hogsmeade had been disappointing to say the least. He had wanted an epic battle between the Lords of Dark and Light. He wanted to witness their power and learn. He didn't care who won. Regardless of the wizard who prevailed, they would be a hurdle in Riddles aspirations to become the Dark Lord. As much as he wanted Dumbledore to lose (and suffer greatly doing so) he appreciated that Grindelwald's defeat would clear the way for Tom to take his place and possibly even secure his followers. It was too much to hope that both men would die today.

"_**Why are we lingering?" **_Hadrian's face was pale and his eyes glossy, trying to maintain a cool façade despite the agony of the dislocated shoulder. He had put his lessons to good use and cast a hasty blasting spell at the wizard who had caused the shutter to fall. The man was now a large pulp of blood and gore against the doorway of Flourish and Blotts.

"_**To learn."**_ Tom replied, _**"It is a rare occurrence that one witnesses a battle of Lords. We are safe here for the time being. Those wizards are protecting their master from outside attack, but likely have orders not to touch his adversary. You can see in his eyes that Lord Grindelwald has a score to settle with the Professor. Insubordination will mean guaranteed death for the man who interferes."**_

"_**But they attacked us!"**_ Pain was making the boy irate now. Tom frowned before silently casting a charm to heal the boy's shoulder. The pale face had a green tinge as the limb was shoved back into the socket with a loud crack.

"_**We posed a threat by entering the alley. As far as I can tell, we were only noticed by two wizards. Both of whom are now dead. Providing that we stay out of sight, we will get a show that most can only dream of witnessing! Appreciate this opportunity! Now stay still so I can reapply the disillusionment charm."**_ Neither boy had missed the fact the charms had dropped during the first blast when Tom had been distracted.

Sticking to the shadows, the barely visibly observers crept closer to the battle; wands at the ready should they be noticed again. Tom was entranced by the view. The very air they breathed was thick and cloying with magic; deep and raw. He could feel it seeping in through his mouth, his nostrils and into his very pores; almost suffocating in its intensity. It was addictive. The wizards witnessing the event all seemed to succumb to the thick blanket of power coating the area. Wands hung limply by the burgundy soldiers' hips as the men swayed almost drunkenly in their hypnotized state, captivated by the action.

Multicoloured lights flashed continuously as the powerful wizards cast almost endlessly. The curses were being thrown in sets of three and four; offensive and defensive spells lighting up the terrain. The men were engaged in a graceful dance through the alley; dodging and twisting; leaping over some spells while creating shields to obstruct others. Judging by the state of the alley it was clear the men had been in battle for some time now. Some buildings were burnt out while others had been levelled completely. Grindelwald wore a gash across his left cheek while Dumbledore was favouring his right leg. Garish sparkly robes had been scorched away from the professor's left arm, leaving cracked, blackened skin in its wake. Still they danced, seemingly unimpeded by their wounds.

Tom dodged to the side as a pure white streak of light shot past him, punching a hole through the brick wall behind him. He heard his friend gasp a few feet to his right. It seemed Grindelwald's stray curse had shot directly between them. He was quickly distracted as a blue flamed whip soared from the Dark Lord's wand, snapping through the air as it lashed repeatedly at Dumbledore. The auburn haired man cast a reflection charm, causing the whip to turn back on its castor before the blonde hastily banished it. Tom hadn't expected the mirror charm to be so effective countering such a Dark spell. He stored this knowledge away as yet another spell soared in his direction. It was Hadrian's turn to yelp and duck this time. A hand grasped the back of Tom's robes and roughly tugged him back, causing him to spin and point his wand at his assailant. The familiar feeling of Hadrian's magic stayed his hand.

"_**Please Tom! If we can't leave can we at least move to somewhere a little less hazardous?" **_invisible lips pleaded. Tom was glad he couldn't see the worried green eyes. It made it easier to say no.

"_**We must stay Hadrian. I have faith that you can take care of yourself," **_he reassured.

This was the exact reason he had created Hadrian's horcrux; now hanging safely around his own neck. Tom could take his young friend into these situations without the fear of losing him to death. Should the worst happen, Tom had memorised the required ritual months ago to return the boy to human form. He had also ensured that Salazar knew where he kept the necessary literature in the unlikely event that Hadrian would need to resurrect Tom.

"_**Whoa!"**_

Tom whirled back to face the battle at the boy's exclamation. Dumbledore was on one knee, wand arm raised in defence as his foe launched a slew of curses at his diminishing shield. Grindelwald wore an expression of a man finally tasting victory. The second the shield dropped, Dumbledore was disarmed with a mere Expelliarmus.

"How humiliating." Tom murmured gleefully. He felt Hadrian's presence at his side as Grindelwald strolled leisurely toward his old friend, a triumphant smile playing at his lips.

"Fool to gloat." Hadrian whispered, "He should take him down while he has the chance."

"He is on his knees and surrounded," Tom observed as the remaining followers gathered in a circle, wands drawn. "He is outnumbered and he knows it."

"It is not only snakes who strike when cornered, Tom. Surely you can feel that?"

Riddle's brow creased as he realised what Hadrian was talking about. Of course the younger boy would notice it before him. With such a strong Light affinity, the amnesiac would be the first in the vicinity to notice the Light funnel of magic being drawn through the very ground they stood on and into the fallen Lord. Grindelwald was still gloating as Albus threw his arms wide before bringing them together in a thunderous clap.

It was like a shockwave of pure magic. The Dark Lord and his followers were blasted ten feet back as a powerful force hurtled outwards from the professor in all directions. Windows exploded from every store and support beams crumbled at impact. Hadrian had been a good twenty feet from the explosion so had taken less of a hit. He managed to get on hands and knees within a few moments, thoroughly winded and gazing in awe at what looked to be a bombsite.

The street was littered with glass and shrapnel_. _Burgundy robed figures lay scattered, half conscious against the nearby buildings against which they had been thrown. As he stared down at the hands he was resting so much weight on, it occurred to the boy that Tom's charm had dropped again. They were visible again. He was on his feet almost instantly looking for Tom.

"Over here," Riddle called to the younger boy. It was time to go. Tom was sat on the floor with what felt like half a market stall on his leg and it was annoyingly painful. He was levitating the wretched thing away as his friend started to make his way across the eight foot gap shockwave had created between them the .

The scarred teen had barely started to stagger when a sickening bolt of deadly green light streaked through the darkness, hurtling directly toward the fallen boy. In desperation, the Dark Lord had thrown the killing curse at his adversary. Dumbledore had little trouble dodging it before using his recently retrieved wand to disarm and stun the man.

None of this mattered to Tom though. Time seemed endless as all he could see was green. There was no time to move, and no spell could block the unforgivable curse. The prospect of death was, and always had been mind numbingly terrifying. He was frozen. Words rebounded through his mind in no coherent sentences. Horcrux. Salazar. Ritual. Hadrian… Hadrian? Hadrian!

The green he saw was no longer the flash of the Avada Kedavra. It was the wide eyes of the only person he cared for. Tom could see only determination and relief in those eyes as the curse washed over his brother. There was no terror in Hadrian's viridian orbs that Tom knew was filling his own crimson gaze. No fear of death in the eyes of the first and only person to ever love the freak from the orphanage. Just relief and acceptance.

An eruption of light blinded Tom to Hadrian's fall. With a thick lump in his throat and dark spots interfering with his vision, Tom scanned the ground frantically, searching for the body of his friend.

There was nothing there.

No. Not nothing. There was no corpse, but there was something. Tom could feel Hadrian's presence the way he did whenever the boy was near. He almost choked in relief as he grasped hurriedly at the ourobouros horcrux; almost tearing it from his throat in his frenzied state. A mist had started to form in front of damp eyes and Tom had to stop himself crumbling to the ground in joy as he witnessed evidence the horcrux had done its job.

Tom startled as the horcrux started to heat up and vibrate to the point it almost hummed. It could sense the nearness of Hadrian's spirit. It was time to plan.

Dumbledore and the newly arrived aurors were busy rounding up the defeated invaders in the distance. Not that Tom cared anymore. He had hope. He had to get to the castle and his supplies. He could use the chamber of secrets to bring his friend, his protégé, his brother back. He could …

Something was happening. Something truly alarming. Tom swallowed thickly, unsure of what he was seeing and how to stop it.

A small indigo orb had formed in the centre of the mist that was Hadrian's spirit. It was growing at an immense pace until the young soul was not longer visible to the seventeen year old. It started to whirl and spin until it resembled a human sized tornado, so incredible was the speed it reached. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

The ouroboros had become motionless in Tom's hand, and cold to the touch.

He couldn't stop the tear from falling this time.

* * *

.


	17. Chapter 17

**So ... I'm back and very very sorry about the pretty epic delay between chapters :( Real life struck again and worse - The dreaded Writer's Block! ****I can't describe the amount of times I would pick up my laptop and type a few words, only to delete them in frustration when the were just total rubbish. I have appreciated all of the reviews and they continue to inspire me to battle through and type through the mush of thoughts. Rest assured this is not abandoned or on hiatus. I'm just usually staring at the laptop with a sad face lol. **

**Anyway - back to the chapter. Reviews are always appreciated :)**

* * *

As a Ravenclaw Muggleborn in a class of primarily Purebloods, Martin Stevens had learned pretty quickly to stop pointing out the wonders of every magical thing he witnessed. It took a smart eleven year old to be placed in the house widely renowned for great thinkers. The bespectacled blond had spent years of Muggle primary school being picked on for his bookish ways. Experience had taught him that the best way to be left alone to read was to not be noticed. His admittance to Hogwarts had been a dream come true. Stevens had escaped his tormentors that he previously believed would be accompanying him to high school. The opportunity for a new life and happiness was not something to be wasted.

When the small pre-teen had donned his silver and blue tie almost two months earlier, he had kept quiet and simply observed. He watched Purebloods and wizard raised children roll their eyes and scoff at Muggleborns. He witnessed the scorn held by those who had experienced this world every moment of their lives. He saw how easy it was to spot a Muggleborn by the sheer awe they would display at every spell. Martin ensured that he would not do this. He did not want to stand out.

At 3:32am on 21st October 1995, Martin was studying by wand-light by his window in Ravenclaw Tower. He was by no means behind in his classes, but his deep desire to fit in had pushed him to learn all he could of this new world he had been thrown into. His spot at the window on this morning had made him privy to a view witnessed by no other soul in the whole of Hogwarts. In the distance, just beyond the school gates, a flash of indigo light had materialised. His attention was drawn to the swirling light in the distance as he knew full well that this was not a regular occurrence. The blond sat by this window almost every night. Barely a minute had passed before the light dispersed again, leaving no evidence it had ever been there.

Martin wondered briefly whether he should mention this phenomenon to his year mates before the thought was pushed hastily from his mind. He refused to risk drawing attention to his heritage by displaying his ignorance of magic. The light was gone now anyhow, so there was little reason to dwell further on it. He thoughts returned the the parchment in front of him; the strange light already a diminishing memory.

And so the return of Harry Potter, only a mere week after he vanished, was missed by all who cared of the teenager's fate.

* * *

Hermione Granger was finding it more and more difficult to keep positive. Harry had been gone for four months now with no further clues since Malfoy had woken. The ferret in question had not returned to Hogwarts and had left no opportunity for further questioning. Hermione's forays into the Restricted Section of the school's library had provided no answers either.

The lack of results was gradually breaking the intelligent Gryffindor's heart. She had done the maths and knew that if her friend had indeed spent four months in the past already, he would have aged ten years. Even if he returned immediately he would be a twenty-six year old man. Someone who had spent a decade away from his friends and would have little in common with the teenagers he once knew.

It was a devastating realisation. Hermione had yet to explain her calculations to her boyfriend. The knowledge that her friend was very likely lost to them already was something she could not cope well with. So she researched and desperately hoped for a miracle.

* * *

When Albus Dumbledore had exited his pensieve almost four months ago, he had been faced with a scenario he could not have anticipated. It had taken over twelve hours of memory perusal to find what he was looking for. Twelve hours of watching his every interaction with Tom Riddle; starting with the day he had first met the eleven year old boy.

Many would question why Albus would consider Riddle strong at such a young age. Yet the Headmaster had learned in his time to never underestimate the Dark Lord, and so was leaving no stone unturned.

He had still not told a soul of what he had discovered amongst his memories, as the potential truth was too terrible to contemplate.

He had reached a memory of Riddle in a duelling club during his N.E.W.T year when Harry had finally made an appearance. Albus had decided to tackle the memories by first viewing those involving Tom in any sort of conflict. Of course he hadn't any personal memories of Tom genuinely fighting in his school years. He could only suspect the boy's misdeeds during that time. He had come across Harry purely by chance.

_Albus was exhausted. Twelve hours and several Pepper-Up potions later and he was reaching his limit of how many memories he could watch in one night. The official duelling club hosted by Professor Merrythought with his assistance had started and Tom Riddle had been summoned to the stage for a demonstration of his skill. His opponent, a witch by the name of Septima Appleby, was a doe eyed Hufflepuff sixth year with a heart shaped face and sweet disposition. _

_Riddle had toyed with her; apologising and helping her to her feet every time he inevitable knocked her down. She had near -enough swooned every time the Head Boy had taken her hand. Albus was as unimpressed watching the memory as when he had first witnessed the duel. The young man's charm had even earned him admiration from those he mocked. _

_As the girl regained her footing for the fourth time, Albus heard a familiar laugh to his immediate left. His attention was drawn from the duel to the boy he had stood beside when watching Tom. For the last twenty minutes he had been stood beside Harry Potter himself! _

_Of course this was not the Harry Potter the Headmaster had seen just last week. _

_Where Harry Potter had short, messy black hair brushing over the infamous lightning bolt scar, this boy's hair was sleek and tidily pulled back from the face into a Slytherin green ribbon at his nape. _

_The famous mark was disguised by a much larger scar cutting through the boy's eyebrow and across his forehead._

_The green eyes were still there, but no longer hidden behind the round spectacles the boy had worn for so long. He had even grown a couple of inches and filled out slightly. Likely through the training Albus had always suspected Tom put the boy through. _

_Albus gaped at the teenager for a whole five minutes, his mind a whirl with memories, before he finally pulled himself together and left the pensieve._

There were two dilemmas that Albus had not stopped dwelling on since his discovery. The first being that Harry James Potter was also Hadrian Orion Jameson; amnesiac member of the Slytherin house, and closest friend to Tom Marvolo Riddle.

This was greatly eclipsed by the second dilemma. One which brought grief to his heart and despair to his mind. It now appeared that the original intention of the curse young Malfoy cast had been fulfilled, and the Light's hope was lost.

Hadrian Jameson was dead. Killed by Gellert Grindelwald's wand should Riddle's story be true (though Albus suspected now that Tom may have killed him if the prophecy was accurate).

Harry Potter was dead, and until the Light Lord could come up with a plan, he could not allow anyone to know. He refused to let the world fall to the Dark. He would not take away hope while he still lived and breathed. Harry had been the only hope he had to vanquish the Dark Lord.

Despite having a lack of feasible plans for the last four months now, he was sure he would come up with something eventually. He would not live the year to it's end. He refused to witness the fall of the Light while he still lived.

He would think of something.

* * *

Black eyes glared stonily as another log popped in the fire, sending a burning ember sailing onto the hearth. Mere seconds later, the ember was gone, as if it has never existed. Severus switched his gaze to the spot which has held the ember only moments ago and reflected on the lives he had snuffed out in the name of the Dark Lord. Many of these people were like the ember in his eyes. They had merely existed. Their removal from the world had barely caused many eyes to blink. Not many individuals left an inferno in their wake after their own demise. It just so happened that Severus' actions had lead to a death which had left the Wizarding World reeling many years after. In fact it was the death of the person he had cared for most in his entire existence.

Lily Potter.

Of course it had been Lily Evans who had first held Severus' heart so tightly. She hadn't even known it. Even long after her death, the Light still held his loyalties against his very nature. All for her. He guarded the life of the Potter brat for her. He lived a perilous life as a spy, betraying the Dark; his own kind. All because of a choice he made before he was even a teen. A choice to befriend the red haired Muggleborn with the captivating green eyes.

Severus could still recall the day he had met Lily Evans. The little girl had been innocently showing magic tricks to her Muggle sister, unaware of the magical world or her place in it. Growing up with a witch for a mother had ensured that Severus was educated in his heritage, even if it was in secret away from the eyes of his Muggle father. He had been friendless as a child. Children would mock him for his poor quality clothes and oddness. Lily had been a beacon of hope for him. He had been only too eager to explain all he knew to her and gain his first friend.

It had been gradual, but Severus had managed to steal Lily away from her sister. He had no love for Muggles and Petunia had done as he expected and became like his father. She was bitter and spiteful to her sister in time and further solidified the young wizard's view that Muggles were lesser beings. Lily would hear nothing against her sister however. Severus soon learned to simply appreciate her friendship and avoid talk of Muggles; choosing instead to practice magic with her. Although untrained, it was clear very early that the children used magic differently. Although the tricks were very simple, Severus would have to try a little harder than Lily to make flowers grow. He realised that she was a Light witch, whereas his nature was Dark. It hadn't mattered. They had kept their close friendship all the way to Hogwarts.

A lot of things had changed when the duo had been Sorted. Severus had watched with a heavy heart as Lily had joined the rowdy lions in Gryffindor. He had almost wished to join the house himself, if only to follow his best friend. As expected though, he had been placed in the house of snakes. For the first few days he had been terrified. His Half-Blood status had not helped him gain friends immediately in the house known for Pureblood superiority. He had dreaded losing Lily after his mother's warnings about Gryffindors. She had explained of the common prejudices held by members of the lion house, and that Severus would likely be targeted by the mostly Light house if he ended up with the snakes. He had been worried that Lily would be poisoned against him by her classmates.

This had not been the case.

Lily was as faithful and compassionate as ever. He had wondered how the hat had chosen Gryffindor when the girl had the brains of a Ravenclaw and the loyalty of a Hufflepuff. It was the incredible bravery she demonstrated a decade later that showed the world the lion in her.

The Gryffindors had certainly tried to turn Lily against her Slytherin friend. Four in particular were especially vocal. A set of troublemakers who had dubbed themselves The Marauders.

Their ringleaders, Sirius Black and James Potter were the worst of the lot. Black held a grudge against Slytherin. The house had been home of every Black before him and as the first Light wizard in a prominently Dark family, Sirius had not had an easy life. Every Slytherin was a target in his eyes. With few friends to protect him, Severus became an easier target than most.

James had hated Severus for a different reason than Sirius. As a Pureblooded Light wizard, it was in James' nature to despise Dark beings. Slytherins were notorious for being Dark and were therefore loathed automatically. Severus, however, was the best friend of the girl who had caught James' eye. The Potter heir was besotted with Lily the moment he saw her. He had warned her away from the evil Slytherin on only the second day of school. He had received a cold shoulder in return. Lily would not give him the time of day after that. Potter blamed Snape. Lily and Severus would pair together in every class they shared and the Marauders bullied him endlessly for it.

Severus never stopped appreciating Lily for continuing their friendship. Not even when his Slytherin acquaintances would call her a Mudblood and disparage him for their friendship. He would belittle them with his sharp tongue and warn them away from the Gryffindor girl.

It had been a difficult decision to join the Death Eaters because of her.

After an awful childhood growing up with ignorant Muggles, followed by six years of harassment from Light magic wielders discriminating against him for the magic he was born with, Severus had been ready to leap on board with his friends when invited to join the Dark Lord's followers. Lord Voldemort was inspirational; fighting against the system that routinely ostracised Dark wizards. His methods were extreme, but they drew attention to the fact that the world was not a utopia as the ministry tried to make the public believe. Severus' classmates told him tales of their parents' roles in the Death Eaters. Of the Dark Lord's achievements in gaining so much power and notoriety. Power was needed to change the world.

Lily had disapproved. It was inevitable. With an entirely Muggle family she naturally feared those who threatened them. Her compassionate nature helped her to understand Severus' point of view. Yet that same nature also kept her loving the sister who called her a freak. She told Severus that Tuney was jealous that she had not been gifted in the way Lily had. She refused to tar Muggles with the same brush.

The relationship between the unlikely pair gradually became more strained. James Potter continued to torment Severus while whispering doubts in Lily's ear.

The straw that broke the Thestral's back had been after another round of abuse from Potter. The Slytherin had been humiliated on the whim of Sirius Black and rescued by Lily. His wounded pride had caused him to lash out at her, calling her a Mudblood. Although he had instantly regretted his hurtful words, it had been too late. His apologies fell on deaf ears as he refused to leave the Dark that Lily so despised. Severus joined the Death Eaters and Lily the Order of The Phoenix. Opposing sides of a brewing war. Both broken hearted at the turnout yet unwilling to be untrue to themselves. She had married Potter not long out of Hogwarts, while Severus worked on his Potions mastery. Their encounters were rare and brief. Nods of acknowledgement across a street before Potter dragged her away with a scowl. This had continued until Severus overheard a prophecy.

The prophecy in question had provided Severus' role in Lily Potter's death.

In his early years in the Dark Lord's service, Severus had witnessed the steady decline of the man's sanity. Voldemort's seemingly endless quest for immortality had caused him to deviate from the original path for Dark equality. The wizard believed he needed invulnerability to achieve his aspirations. At age twenty-one, Severus had been drinking in the Hog's Head when he saw an opportunity to gain information against the Light. Fortune had seemed to smile upon him when he managed to overhear part of a life changing prophecy. It had spoken of a child being born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. The Potions master had almost splinched himself in his haste to bring the news to his master. He had hoped that if Voldemort could destroy the _one_ person capable of defeating him, he would fear less for his life and get his priorities back on track.

It had not taken long for Severus' Achilles heel to make itself known. Potter had managed to impregnate Lily, announcing that the next heir was due in late July, along with the Longbottom's spawn. Lily had been put at risk due to her unborn child's chance of being of whom the prophecy spoke.

Severus had thrown himself at the Light Lord's mercy; confessing all to Albus Dumbledore and begging that Lily be protected. He had no care for her husband and child. He had even used his position as one of Voldemort's favourites to ask the man himself to spare her life. In the end, he had wasted his breath. Albus failed at protecting the woman Severus loved, and his master killed her when she refused to step aside. Broken hearted and guilt ridden, he had promised Dumbledore his allegiance to Harry Potter.

Now he stared into the fire; a Dark wizard allied with the Light. Betraying his nature and fellow Death Eaters for a woman he had unintentionally helped to murder. Driven by guilt for sixteen years and now facing the issue that the boy he swore to protect might already be dead. He stared knowing that he would likely die in this war for a cause he had never supported. Helping the Light to defeat a once promising Dark Lord with a worthy cause. A man he had once readily joined and a cause no longer being championed.

Tearing his eyes from the fire, he grasped the bottle of Bourbon resting on his coffee table and refilled his glass. Now was not the time for sobriety.

* * *

Every wizard who had ever described Avada Kedavra as the source of a painless death was horribly mistaken. Hadrian had felt the deadly green curse wash over him and expected an abrupt end of his life. It seemed that he was not to be so fortunate. Sheer agonising pain was the only way to describe what he had suffered when that curse struck him in place of his friend. He felt every cell of his being being torn apart as he was obliterated. His body was a mere memory when the torture had ended and the lights had stopped spinning.

For four months now Hadrian had held the form of what he could only describe as a spirit. He was not a ghost like those in the school. That probably would have made his existence much easier. His form was more of a dark vapour, easily mistaken for a shadow by those who had witnessed him on his journey.

When he had reappeared at the school gates, the young Slytherin had been terrified and bewildered. He had spent what felt like an age suffering the torture of his soul's forced extraction, and was amazed he had managed to maintain his sanity. The school had loomed ahead but the familiar building had not appealed to the damaged boy. Something had called to him, inviting him to be whole again. It had barely been a whisper but he had felt it and clung to it desperately.

So he had travelled, keeping to the shadows for safety all of the way. His first stop had been Diagon Alley, hoping there was a chance of encountering Tom. No doubt Tom would search for him if no corpse had been left behind. What he had found after his long journey to London had disturbed him to say the least.

Diagon Alley had showed no sign of a great battle between the Lords of Dark and Light. Business had been booming and several new stores had already replaced those Hadrian had witnessed demolished. He could only conclude that more time had passed than he had expected. It explained why Tom wasn't scouring the streets for him, casting every spell imaginable to locate him. He'd likely already done that, Merlin only knew how long ago. Judging by the decorations in the store windows on his arrival, Christmas was approaching. The bodiless young man was distraught. The last time he had seen his friends had been in early May. At the very least, a few months had passed.

It had a been a copy of The Daily Prophet that had dashed his hopes further.

When he had first noticed the newspaper stand he had saw an opportunity. The Wizarding newspaper could inform him of the goings on in the magical world, and hopefully give him a chance to figure out just how long ago he had been hit with the killing curse. The first glance would have taken his breath away had he possessed lungs at that moment. The date had taunted him from the front page, striking him dumb. It was November 1995.

Over fifty years had passed since he saw his friends last. Fifty years where anything could have happened. Judging by the magic he witnessed being cast left and right by shoppers, Tom's vision had not come to pass. Light magic still dominated the populace. Hadrian could not even begin to imagine why so little had been achieved for the Dark in five decades.

He would never admit it to anyone, (especially Tom) but Hadrian had spent at least a week after his discovery drifting aimlessly. He allowed himself to wallow in self pity for his predicament until yet another newspaper article renewed his hopes:

"**Death Eaters Strike Again!"** Screamed out the headline of The Daily Prophet. The newspaper had been discarded on the steps of a Wizarding home in Camden; regrettably closed so Hadrian could only read part of the article. His lack of corporeal form prevented him from turning the page. With the limited information on the front page he had established that the Death Eaters were still going strong under the orders of You-Know-Who. It was a rather ridiculous moniker in Hadrian's opinion yet it also seemed strangely familiar. The first thing on his agenda became finding a Death Eater.

Christmas came and went while Hadrian drifted, thinking of a plan which would guarantee him access to a Death Eater. At first he had simply hoped to be lucky enough to happen across one of the Dark wizards. After giving up on that ridiculous idea he had taken to hiding deep in a forest for safety from unfriendly eyes. His time had been spent plotting; mentally listing Tom's followers and what little he knew of their residences.

Amongst his friends, Hadrian had only come to know the vague locations of Nott, Black and Malfoy's homes. Avery had very rarely wanted to discuss his home or family due the difficulties he experienced with his prominently Light kin.

The disembodied teen had chosen the Black abode as his first point of call. The family had always been Dark and would be more inclined to assist him; especially if Orion was head of the household. It was strange to think that his friend he saw a mere few months ago would already be in his sixties. The man would likely have settled down with Walburga long ago and created lots of little Blacks of his own. It was all too insane for Hadrian to conceive.

It had taken several days for Hadrian to reach Grimmauld Place. Another reason he had chosen the Blacks was due to the fact the home was within the same city where he had chosen to hide and brood. He had sensed the magic from number twelve and determined that this was the exact address of the ancient family. All of the other houses on the street clearly homed Muggles. In his current form Hadrian could sense magic much more strongly than he ever could when his soul had been housed in flesh, and not a single other house on the street gave an inkling of magical occupants. He had kept in a shadow of a tree across the street from the terraced house, carefully watching for any human traffic in and out. It was odd how the place had seemed so familiar to him despite him never being there before. He could even almost picture the interior of the building, but assumed this was from the descriptions given by his room-mate. A shrieking portrait would flash in his mind, which was decidedly odd considering Orion had never mentioned such a thing. Hadrian had pushed this from his thoughts so he could focus on the task at hand.

Hadrian had spent seven hours observing the house before working up the courage to skulk closer and hope for a glimpse inside. His instincts had held him back longer than expected; warning him of potential danger inside. Hadrian had paid attention to these instincts. He had not been sorted into Slytherin for nothing. Night had fallen and many more shadows had grown to hide his form more efficiently. As he had crept closer, his plan had been thwarted by the near silent apparition of a horribly familiar, garishly dressed figure. Of all the wizards who could have appeared at the door of the Ancient House of Black, it was the man Hadrian was least interested in seeing.

Despite being several decades older with all traces of auburn hair having been replaced with grey, Albus Dumbledore had not toned down his fashion sense one bit. His neon blue robe had flashed with red and green stars, making him stick out like a sore thumb on the conservative street. The Light Lord had glanced around briefly, blue eyes passing over the spirit without acknowledgement, before he had let himself into the Dark residence with no difficulty.

When he had got past the overwhelming shock, Hadrian had quickly dismissed the idea of acquiring help from the Black family. He couldn't begin to imagine what could have occurred to allow Dumbledore access to the building without being torched by the infamous wards. Merlin, he was surprised the man had even been able to see the address if Orion's family had kept up the ancient protections.

He moved on to his next stop two counties away; Wiltshire.

Several more weeks had passed and the boy's desperation had begun to grow. Having only his own mind for company for so long and no one to reassure him had put his mental strength to the test. It had been much harder to find the next home he sought as he had no specific idea of where in Wiltshire it would be. He had relied heavily on his magic sensitivity to locate the second family on his list. Several incorrect magical abodes had taken him off course until he finally located the right one. Strangely enough, the whisper of a tug he had felt on and off since his arrival in this decade had grown stronger the deeper he had travelled into Wiltshire.

Four months after being so brutally cursed, the young spirit grinned mentally as he drifted outside the towering gates of Malfoy Manor.

He was feeling optimistic about this one.


End file.
